Protecting the Innocent
by JamiW
Summary: Eleventh in the "Free" series - directly follows Mile High. BA, MC, RR, LR, and whoever else I decide to pull in.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story begins the day after where Mile High ended.

* * *

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Alex and I spent the first half of Sunday in the bed.

We ordered room service for breakfast, and then promptly set about working off all of the calories.

And we'd consumed quite a few, so I had my work cut out for me. But, I think it's safe to say that neither of us put on a pound.

We had to check out of the room by noon, and we waited until the last possible minute.

Then we headed for 1PP where Ross met up with us to get our statements about last night's activities.

"You have plans for beefing up your security system?" he asked me when we'd finished.

"We've got a guy coming out tomorrow," I told him. "We've got people there today to clean everything up."

"Maybe I'll get a uniform to sit on your place tonight."

"Danny, it's fine," Alex said.

The name should've sounded strange, but for some reason it didn't. He'd truly turned into a friend.

"The threat is gone," I said, agreeing with Alex. "Derk had the first cell phone from Stoat, and the second one was found in his cell. That's it."

"That's the only threat from _him_," he countered. "How do we know that's the only one?"

"We don't," she told him with a shake of her head. "But we never know that about any of us, do we? You know that."

"I know," he admitted with a sigh. "So you're adding an alarm tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I told him. "We appreciate your concern. But we'll be fine."

We left his office a few minutes later, and even though I didn't say it out loud, I had no doubt that Ross would send a squad car to sit outside of our apartment.

And he did.

I saw it when I followed Alex into the living room at midnight. I glanced through the large, open window and there it was, sitting under a streetlight.

I didn't say anything about it because she was on a restless stroll, which was what had pulled us from the bed and brought us out here in the first place.

"What's on your mind?" I asked her as I pulled the blinds closed.

The last thing I needed was for the uniforms to report back to Ross that the subjects of surveillance were walking around their apartment naked.

She quirked an eyebrow at my sudden bout of shyness, but didn't comment. Instead, she walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"I'm worried about Cathy," she said quietly. She settled her cheek against my chest and let out a deep breath. I ran my hand over her hair and waited for her to talk.

"She's not returning my calls," she continued. "I'd expected that she would be mad at me for having Travis picked up, but I didn't think she would shut me out completely."

There had been a message waiting on Alex's cell phone when she'd turned it on this morning.

_**I asked you not to be a cop, and you couldn't do it. Thanks a lot, Alex. Do me a favor, and mind your own business from now on, okay?**_

Since getting the message, Alex had called her several times, but each call had gone to voice mail.

"Give her some time," I told her. "She'll be okay."

"No," she said. "The fact that she's this mad means that she still cares about him. I just don't understand her. How can she want someone who treats her that way?"

"I'm not going to pretend to understand it, either," I told her as I guided us to the recliner. I sat down and pulled her onto my lap. "But we've certainly seen enough of it."

"Steve is a good man. What was so wrong with him that she had to walk away?"

"She was unhappy with herself," I posed. "She needed to make a change, and in her eyes, he was the first thing that needed to go. He would always see her as she'd been when they got married."

"But what about Nate? They wanted a child so badly…bad enough to ask me to carry him. How can she turn her back on him?"

I didn't really have an answer for that. I couldn't understand her motivation either, and Alex was right. As upset as Cathy was with her meant that she wasn't ready to ditch Travis.

Which only made it all that much more important that Logan and I pay him a visit when he got out of jail in the morning.

Even if she wasn't ready to leave him for good, maybe I could convince him to be ready to leave her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against my chest. "I'm keeping us awake. I need to just ride this out and see where it's going to go."

"She's your sister. You care about her. There's no need to apologize for that."

I held her for several more minutes, stroking her hair, her arm, her back…everywhere I could reach.

I hated to see her upset, but I was really glad that she'd decided to talk to me about it. Not that we held back from each other much anymore, but still…sometimes when it came to family, it was habit for her to keep it inside.

She tended to worry a lot about what I thought of them.

Although I'm not sure why.

Who was I to judge the dynamic of other people's families?

Mine had been scattered and unconventional at best.

Loving, sometimes. More often dysfunctional. But really, whose wasn't?

As far as I'm concerned, the families who appear to be normal and happy are probably the ones with the most hidden skeletons.

"Let's go back to bed," she said at last. I could tell that some of the tension had drained from her body and I was inordinately pleased that I was able to do that for her.

"Are you sure? Because I like this chair," I said in a low voice.

"Do you now?" she asked.

"Well, I like it when you're in it with me," I amended. And then because a shiver went through her, I added, "Unless you're cold."

"No. No, I'm not cold at all," she replied. She ran her fingers lightly across my chest and then trailed them downward.

"It's a good thing you closed those blinds," she continued. "We wouldn't want to give Ross' boys an eyeful."

I chuckled at her, wondering why I'd even considered for a second that she hadn't noticed the car outside.

Of _course_ she'd seen it. She missed very, very little.

"It's good to be back home," I murmured into her ear, and then I let out a low groan as she wrapped her fingers around me.

And it _was _good to be home. I liked our new place, and we'd been in Denver for three nights, and then we'd had to stay in a hotel last night.

And of course, the things that she was doing to me at the moment didn't hurt either.

After the workout this morning, I was surprised that everything was…open for business, but it was.

It most definitely was. In fact, almost too well.

I reached down and grabbed her hand in mine so that I could take control of the situation.

But she was having none of that. She held my hand, and in fact, grabbed the other one as well, but at the same time, she shifted so that her legs were on either side of me, and then without hesitation, she sank quickly and fully down onto me.

Clearly she was seeking the power tonight.

And I was more than happy to give it to her.

We went at her pace, which was hard and fast, intense and passionate while she exorcised her feelings of frustration and impotence.

We'd tested the fortitude of this chair on many occasions, but still…at the rate we were going, I had the brief uncertainty pass through my mind that maybe tonight would be the night.

The night that we broke the chair.

Mike would never let us live that down.

I directed my focus back to where it belonged, and started up a steady stream of encouragement, but then she suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong, honey?" I asked when she buried her head in the crook of my neck.

I ran my hands down her spine as she took a moment to catch her breath. Her back was slick with sweat and her heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"For what?"

"I'm…I'm just…I don't know."

"Hey," I whispered, moving my hands up to her head so that I could get her to look at me. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

"I just feel so…" she began, but then she floundered, at a lost for words.

"Helpless?" I suggested.

"Like I'm about to witness a train wreck and there's not a damn thing I can do about it," she said at last. "And so instead, I'm using you…"

"You can use me any time you want," I told her firmly. She finally smiled, just a little, and so did I.

"Yeah, I guess you weren't really complaining too much, were you?" she asked as her smile got bigger.

"Well, it's a tough job, but I'm up to the task," I teased.

"Yes you are," she replied. She moved her hands to my cheeks and rubbed them over the heavy stubble. She brought her lips to within an inch of mine and then whispered fervently, "I love you."

Without waiting for my response, she closed the final distance and kissed me, slowly this time, and suddenly we were back to just us.

No near-miss hits that put us under surveillance…no confused sisters making bad choices…just us.

"Let's go into the bedroom," she said when she pulled back. She eased off of me and stood next to the chair.

"Are you sure?" I asked with feigned confusion. "I offer you anything you want and you choose a bed? Alex, I'm so disappointed."

"Move your ass, Goren," she retorted with a smirk.

"Oh, you're gonna be bossy, huh?" I asked as I stood up.

She quirked her eyebrow at me and stood with one hand on her hip while the other hand gestured for me to go down the hall.

I couldn't resist.

Before she could react, I grabbed her up and put her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"You are so dead," she threatened, but her words lost their punch considering that she was laughing while she said them.

I carried her to the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed.

"You're a brave man," she told me as I got onto the bed and loomed over her. "You know I'll have to get payback for that."

"I'm counting on it," I replied.

And the sight of her, smiling and laying beneath me…it was too much.

I couldn't wait any longer.

I pushed back into her and together we set a slow, purposeful rhythm that somehow managed to bring me to the brink of release faster than the intensity from before.

Because it was more about emotion than just physical needs.

I kept up the agonizingly slow pace while I kissed her, not settling in any one place but instead moving my lips along her cheek, her forehead, her eyelids…

"I love you so much," I whispered when I worked my way around to her ear. "So much…"

She let out a deep sigh and began murmuring my name as she wrapped her arms tighter around me.

I knew that she was close, and so was I, so I brought my mouth back to hers and kissed her intently as we got there together.

An hour or so later, as we lay spooned together beneath the covers, I was almost asleep when she spoke.

"Do you think that I need to step back? And just stay out of it?"

It was no surprise that she was back to Cathy again. I was there myself, although my focus was more on what I was going to say to Travis.

"I think that she's family. And whether she can admit it or not, she needs your help."

"Okay," she said after a moment of consideration. "Okay, but I'm not going to keep calling her. Tomorrow, I'll go talk to her in person."

"Good idea. And I'll take care of Travis."

"Take care of him?" she asked with a smirk as she turned in my arms. "Are you going to hurt him?"

"I'm not sure yet," I teased.

She and I both knew that I had no intention of hurting him. I was just going to issue a warning.

Of course, Mike was going with me, so all bets were off.

"Maybe I want to come with you then. I wouldn't mind taking a swing at him myself."

And she was joking, but yet she wasn't.

I knew that it infuriated her to think about that man hitting Cathy. She hadn't even met him yet but she wanted to kill him. I didn't blame her. I wanted to kill him, too.

But we'd pushed the limit on retaliation already.

With Connie's help, we'd gotten him a weekend in jail. Anything more that we did to him would be construed as harassment, and I didn't want Alex to get into trouble.

"Let me and Mike have a go at him first. If he doesn't stay away from her, then he's all yours."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV **

* * *

I slept restlessly Sunday night, although I knew that Bobby did his best to ease my mind.

But I really hated what my sister was doing right now.

And I hated what had been done to her.

So I felt conflicted, because I partially felt sorry for her, and yet I partially blamed her for the situation that she was in.

If she'd just shown better judgment to begin with, then she would've never even met Travis.

And then she wouldn't have moved out of her home, leaving her son behind.

And then she wouldn't have become the victim of domestic abuse.

But it wasn't fair to blame the victim.

She wasn't at fault for Travis' actions.

No, but she _was_ at fault for shacking up with him in the first place.

And so it went.

Round and round, the facts circled through my mind until my head literally hurt.

I finally got out of the bed at six, feeling out of sorts.

There were still thirty minutes before the alarm went off, so I quietly went into the bathroom and started the shower.

Maybe the hot water would ease my tension headache.

I took a quick look at myself while I waited for the water to warm up.

As usual, I was fairly critical.

I needed a haircut.

I needed a color touch-up to hide the relentless grays.

I needed a good night's sleep to stave off the dark circles under my eyes.

And it wouldn't kill me to get back into my work-out routine.

Our sex life was great, but even considering as often as we went at it, that didn't make up for the three miles a day that I used to do.

"Absolutely beautiful," Bobby said, startling me as he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

He'd slipped into the bathroom while I was lost in thought from my self-analysis.

I hadn't been truly seeing what was in the mirror, but rather what was in my mind's eye.

"You're biased," I responded as I settled my hands over top of his where they rested against my stomach.

"Maybe. But that doesn't make it less true," he insisted gently. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

"Some," I hedged.

"You don't lie very well," he said, catching my eye in the mirror. "We're going to get into the bed early tonight, okay?"

"We got into bed early last night," I countered, although I appreciated what he was trying to do. I knew that he was just looking out for me.

"Earlier, then," he said firmly. "We're having dinner with Mike and Carolyn, right?"

"And Connie and Lupo."

"Okay. When we get back, you're going to take a bath, maybe drink a little bit of wine, and then I'll give you a massage."

"And that's supposed to make me go to sleep?" I teased suggestively. "I think that might make me want to do other things."

"We'll see," he replied with a grin.

He kissed me on the top of my head and then let me go so that I could get into the shower. He turned away to reach in the drawer to get his shaving cream and razor, so I swatted him on the butt before I stepped under the spray.

"Don't forget I still owe you for that caveman attitude that you displayed last night," I reminded him as I began washing my hair. "I still can't believe you did that."

I could hear him chuckling as he started to shave, and I had to smile. The sound of his laughter served to lighten my mood better than the shower could've possibly done.

An hour later, we left the apartment and headed for the office.

We were early, so I was surprised to find Mike and Carolyn already there, but it turned out to be a good thing because Lupo called thirty minutes later to give us the heads-up that the charges against Travis had been tossed out.

"Cutter got a good dressing-down from the judge, too," he added, although he didn't sound terribly upset about it.

"I'll be sure to let him know how much I appreciate him sticking his neck out," I said.

"Oh, he knows. And Connie fought for you. It's fine, really. He knew what he was getting in to."

"So where do we think he'll go?" Mike asked after we hung up with Lupo.

"Home," Carolyn said. "I'm sure he'll want to shower after the weekend in jail."

"You think he'll go to work afterwards?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "He's going to pretend that the arrest on Friday was no big deal. That it was all a mistake. He'll go home and clean up and then go into work with a lame excuse as to why he's late."

"Well, what do you think, Bobby? Want to go wait outside of his building?" Mike asked with a grin.

I made a quick call to the hospital to make sure that Cathy was still on shift. I knew that she'd been working nights, and I didn't want her to have gotten off early so that she could meet Travis at his place.

I wasn't sure where she was staying at the moment, since she wouldn't return my calls, but her anger definitely suggested that she was with Travis.

But her boss in the ER said that Cathy was still at work. And he was nice enough to supply me with the added information of her quitting time, which was ten o'clock.

"Okay," I said when I hung up. "You two go to his place. I'm going to the hospital and catch Cathy when she gets off."

"I'll come with you," Carolyn offered.

I hesitated for just a second.

I'm not really sure why.

Maybe out of slight embarrassment over my sister's actions.

"I'll wait in the car," she added. "I'll just keep you company while we wait."

So I kissed Bobby goodbye and made him promise to be careful.

Domestic situations always had the potential to get hairy, and I didn't know Travis well enough to know if his behavior with Cathy was a trend or an isolated incident.

"Why does it always make me nervous when we send the two of them off alone?" Carolyn asked rhetorically once they'd gone. She just shook her head and went into the kitchen. "Coffee?" she called out.

"That would be great."

"When do you want to leave?" she asked when she came back out of the kitchen and handed me a cup.

I looked at my watch and did a quick calculation of the driving time required to get to the hospital.

"Probably about thirty minutes," I said. "That'll give us plenty of time."

I went down the hall to my office and went through my inbox.

There was nothing of any significance, but I did have a couple of consults that needed attention, so I threw myself into the case of a missing child.

It was a ten-year old case that had been handled by the Bureau, but the mother had recently asked us to look into it again, and Carolyn had finagled the file from the feds.

It was a suspected custodial abduction.

The child had disappeared, and so had the father.

I read through the case file and then sat back in my chair and sighed heavily.

What if Steve decided to do something like this?

_Would he? _

I didn't think so.

Like I'd told Bobby last night, he was a good guy. He worked hard at his job and provided a good home for Cathy and Nate. He was a natural around his son, and I don't think that's something that can be faked.

Besides, so far Cathy hadn't shown a lot of interest in Nate. She spent time with him when it was convenient for her, but she hadn't pushed Steve for additional visitation.

A quiet knock caught my attention. My door hadn't been closed, but Carolyn had still rapped on the frame out of respect for my privacy.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"I didn't mean to put any pressure on you earlier. I can stay here, if you'd rather," she offered.

"No, it's fine," I said quickly.

"I just mean if it's too personal…"

And then I felt really bad.

Because Carolyn was my best friend.

In addition to Bobby, anyway.

And I was shutting her out because…why?

I was afraid that she would think differently of me?

That she would see that maybe I wasn't the superhero everyone made me out to be because I couldn't even corral my own sister into making intelligent choices?

"It is personal," I agreed as I waved her over to a chair. "But not too personal for you. I'm sorry I seemed hesitant earlier."

"It's okay," she said quickly. "Family can be…difficult sometimes."

And Carolyn had lost all of hers.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I'm just…I'm really having trouble with this. It's not a situation that I ever imagined she would be in, and I don't know what to say to her. I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing, and then maybe sending her running straight back to him. If she hasn't run back to him already because she feels sorry for him after I had him arrested."

"She's a grown woman. She's going to make her own choices. You can't control what she does."

"You think I'm putting too much importance on my actions," I concluded.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's hard to say without being more familiar with your family dichotomy. Does Cathy look up to you?"

"I think so," I replied thoughtfully. "But I also think that she has this crazy impression that I'm this perfect person."

"Well," she began, giving me a slow smile.

"Please," I said dismissively. "We both know damn well that's not true."

"But if she thinks it, then you're going to have even more trouble getting through to her. She's going to feel like anything you say is a judgment, and she'll probably go on the defensive. You have to be careful."

"Yeah," I agreed as I got up from the chair. "Yeah, I get that. So what do you suggest?"

"Honestly?" she asked as she followed me out of the office. "I don't know."

"I don't either. I thought that reminding her about what she's doing to Nate would help open her eyes, but it's not. She doesn't seem to care."

"She doesn't believe that she's hurting him. And considering your ties to him, she's going to be defensive about him, too. She's going to take anything you say about him as criticism."

"Then what the hell am I supposed to say?" I asked in frustration. Carolyn put her arm around me in a gesture of support as we walked toward the car.

"Speak from the heart, but don't be bossy. And apologize for having him arrested."

"But I'm not sorry," I argued.

"Then lie. If she's mad at you for that, then she won't hear you at all unless you apologize."

I drove to the hospital, and my stomach was in knots. We tossed about more ideas as to how I should handle the situation, and then we went quiet for a minute.

"We locked ourselves out of our hotel room while we were in Rio," Carolyn said suddenly, completely out of the blue.

"You did what?"

"Yeah. We went out on the balcony to…well, um…you know," she said.

I glanced at her, and found that she was blushing.

Carolyn.

To say I was surprised was an understatement, and I was also tremendously curious as to the rest of the story.

"So you were on the balcony…" I encouraged.

"Yeah, and um…well, obviously we hadn't brought our key out there with us, because there was really nowhere to put it, and well, the door closed behind us."

"And locked you out?"

"Uh huh," she said, and then she started laughing. "And we were on the second floor and neither one of us had any clothes…"

I laughed along with her at the image of what might have happened next.

"Mike went off the balcony, didn't he?"

"Oh yeah," she told me. "And then he had to go into the lobby and up to the front desk to ask them for another key."

The car was filled with laughter, and my tension from moments ago was forgotten at the mental image of Mike, completely naked, shimmying down the drainpipe.

"Now you can't tell him that I told you," she said once she was able to get a handle on herself. "He'll kill me."

"Oh, I don't know if I can hold that one back," I argued. "It's too good."

But I caught her eye as I pulled into a parking space at the hospital, and gave her a nod.

"I won't tell," I promised. "And thank you."

"No problem. What are friends for?"

"Um…to share embarrassing stories about their spouses?" I offered as I turned off the engine.

"Exactly," she replied with a grin. "You're up next."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Cathy POV**

* * *

I got a text message from Travis at nine-thirty.

A rush of nerves and anticipation hit me when I saw that it was from him, and then I read it.

_**I'm out. Come home.**_

That was it.

I was slightly disappointed, and yet relieved at the same time.

And still nervous.

Because the message was too ambiguous.

Had he forgiven me for telling Alex about what had happened?

Surely he had to know by now that I wasn't the one who'd gotten him arrested. I hadn't pressed charges, and I wouldn't.

After all, it had been an accident. And yeah, I'd left him when it first happened, but only because I was upset. I knew I couldn't stay away from him for long.

I was still furious with Alex for calling her friend to manhandle Travis, and embarrass him at work.

Who did she think she was?

I'd only called her to talk, not because I wanted her to do something about it.

And yet she was so goddamn self-righteous. Everything was black and white to her.

It drove me crazy.

"Cathy, can you change the line on the guy in three?"

I looked across the counter at my colleague and nodded.

I still had thirty minutes before I could leave. It was killing me to not just clock out now, because I really wanted to go see Travis.

But as long as I had to be here, I may as well stay busy.

I headed down the hall and thought more about Alex.

Her and her perfect husband and her perfect job and their perfect life.

It was nauseating, is what it was.

And why couldn't she be happy for me now that _I _was happy?

Why did she have to try to ruin it all by rushing to judgment on Travis?

Steve had been pedestrian and inattentive at best.

Oh, he hadn't always been like that. There had been a time when I thought that the world revolved around him. And he felt like that about me, too. He treated me like I was a princess.

But I was flawed. There was no other way to put it.

I couldn't give him the child that he so desperately wanted.

And so who had stepped up to the plate? Alex, of course.

I loved her for it.

And I resented her.

Because once again, she'd succeeded where I'd failed.

It felt like the story of my life.

The last thirty minutes of my shift went by quickly, and I clocked out and headed for the parking lot.

As soon as I got outside, I pulled out my cigarettes and lit one as I walked toward my car. Halfway there, I saw Alex leaning against the driver's side door.

_I should've known_.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, although there was no heat in my voice. For some reason, I had trouble staying mad at her when we were face to face.

I didn't want to fight with her. I wanted to make her proud of me. That seemed to be my eternal goal, and yet I never quite got there.

"I was hoping that we could talk."

"I don't want to talk about Travis."

I'd reached the car by this point, and so I leaned against it, standing shoulder to shoulder with her.

She was quiet while I took another drag off my cigarette.

"When did you start smoking again?" she asked me. I'd quit years ago when I was trying to get pregnant.

"I'm just…it's only…not long ago," I admitted at last.

She turned and looked at me and reached her hand up to gently touch my cheek, which I knew was still discolored despite my efforts with make-up.

"Did you get that checked out?"

"It's just a bruise."

"There could be damage to the cheekbone."

"I'm fine."

She blew out an annoyed breath, and I felt my temper flare.

Why did she always make me feel like a little kid? Like I had to answer to her, or had to explain my actions?

"Cathy, what are you doing?" she asked on a sigh. "This isn't you."

"What do you know about me anymore?" I asked accusingly. I felt like it had been ages since she and I had talked, really talked.

"It feels like I don't know you at all," she agreed. "You cheated on Steve, then you left him and Nate to go live with this…_guy_…and now he's hit you. But instead of being mad at him, you're mad at me for having him arrested."

"Because I asked you _not_ to. You have no respect for what I want."

"And you have no respect for yourself if you let him do this to you," she fired back.

"He's a good guy. You don't know what happened."

"I don't need to know. Good guys don't hit their girlfriends," she shouted. "How many times did Steve ever put his hands on you?"

"Oh, we're going to compare Travis to Steve? Okay, fine. How many times did Steve put his hands on me? None in the past few months. None at all. And yeah, I'm talking about sex. How long was I supposed to stay with him when he wasn't interested in me any more?"

"So this is about sex?"

"Partially, yes. It's about feeling wanted and loved."

"Travis hit you! How does that make you feel loved?"

"He's passionate. His temper got the best of him, that's all. Just because Bobby never shows emotion…"

"Stop right there," she bit out. "We're not talking about Bobby."

"No, we're not. Because it's always about me. It's about how I'm screwing up my life, right? You always do the right thing. Cathy always fucks up."

"Cathy…"

"I'm serious!" I yelled. "All of our lives, no one cared what I was doing unless it was something wrong. I was never going to be as good as Alex. You had to go and be a damn cop, didn't you? And then you had to marry one, too. How was I supposed to compete with that? Dad never saw me. He only saw you. I was just the other daughter."

"You know that's not true. And it was never a competition," she insisted.

"Wasn't it? The only time I had the chance to beat you was to give him grandchildren because I knew that you didn't want kids. And we both know how well that worked out, don't we? I couldn't even have a baby the right way! I had to get you to do it for me!"

My outburst silenced her and I instantly felt bad.

I was such a bitch.

This was my sister, and she'd stalled her career and given up nine months of her life for me.

To give me my son.

More than nine months, really.

And then she'd had to bust her ass to get back into shape so that she could be effective in her job…and she'd had to put her love life on hold…and I was yelling at her.

"I'm sorry, Alex," I said quietly.

"No, don't hold back," she said sharply. "Tell me how you really feel."

"I…I'm just…I wasn't happy," I admitted at last, and then I couldn't stop the tears. "Steve doesn't love me, and Nate's bonded with him more than me, and I just wanted to feel…_wanted_. Is that so wrong?"

She hugged me and that only made me cry harder.

She was so strong and supportive and forgiving. And I was…not any of those things.

"You're not wrong to want that," she said softly.

She didn't continue, but I knew there was more, so I forced myself to let her go, and I waited for her to finish what she needed to say.

"Finding another man is not going to make you happy," she said. "You need to be happy with yourself first. You can't expect someone else to do it for you. And Nate, well…he's six. Of course he's going to have a bond with his father. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't need you. And the more he sees you pulling away, the more he's going to cling to Steve. It's a natural form of self-preservation. You're the adult. You're his _mom_. You need to make time for him and cultivate the bond or you're going to lose it altogether."

I shoved down my initial reaction which was to deny everything she said.

Instead, I wiped the tears from my face and gave her a nod. She might have a point. With some of it.

"You can't go back to Travis," she added. "Please. Promise me that you won't."

And with the sense of timing that normally only happens in fiction, my cell phone beeped, indicating a text message. Her eyes shifted to where my phone was clipped to the waistband of my scrub pants, but I made no move to get it.

"That's him, isn't it?"

"Maybe," I answered with a shrug.

"Check it."

"Alex…"

"Cathy, please," she begged. "If you go back to him now, then you're telling him that it's okay. That you'll let him get away with hitting you."

"He won't do it again," I insisted. "He's already said that he was sorry."

"Of course he's sorry. He's sorry that you told your cop-sister and that he got arrested. You think there's not going to be repercussions for that?"

She was right about that. He'd been fairly calm when he'd called me from jail, but it was almost like the calm before the storm.

I reached for my phone and checked the text.

_**Where the hell are you? **_

She took the phone from my hand and read the message.

"Does this sound like a guy who's sorry? The bruise hasn't even healed yet."

"Alex, I love him," I explained weakly. _Didn't I_?

"You barely know him," she countered. "You think that you love him because he's different from Steve, and he pays attention to you."

She had another valid point.

My sister, the genius. She was able to sift straight through a person's bullshit and was fearless enough to call them out on it.

"Give it until the weekend," she bargained. "Stay away from him until then, and see how you feel about it, okay? Please?"

Five days.

Could I be without him for five days? When I'd just spent the past three without him?

"Okay," I agreed. "Okay, I'll stay at the hotel this week."

I was surprised when she hugged me again.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Let's talk again on Friday, okay? We'll have lunch."

"That sounds good," I said.

"And call me before then if you need me. Or even if you don't, okay? I mean it."

I felt Alex's phone buzzing against me as we hugged, and so she stepped back to look at hers.

"Is that Bobby?" I asked, and I was only partially innocuous with my interrogative.

Because she'd just cracked on me for Travis wanting to know where I was and yet Bobby kept close tabs on her, too, didn't he?

What was the difference?

In fact, those two were usually joined at the hip. I was surprised that he wasn't here at the hospital with her.

I scanned the parking lot while she read her text, and then I saw her car.

I couldn't keep from rolling my eyes when I saw that her friend Carolyn was inside waiting for her.

"You couldn't drive out here alone? You had to bring reinforcements to deal with your poor misguided sister?"

"What?" she asked vaguely. "Oh. No. We were working," she explained as she clipped her phone back to her belt.

"Oh, that's right. Your important job."

I'm not sure why it bugged me that Carolyn had tagged along.

Maybe because it made me feel as though I was just another appointment on Alex's busy calendar.

Something she had to take care of so that she could then check it off her task list.

"Cathy, you're an ER nurse. Why in the world would you think that my job is any more important than yours?"

"Dad thinks it is," I reminded her.

"You want a competition? Okay, here you go. Dad thinks that I'm an idiot for quitting the department, a disgrace for marrying my partner, and a disappointment for not accepting the offer of the job as captain. So there, I beat you in the unsatisfactory daughter category."

"You got offered a job as captain?"

Great. Another feather in her cap, whether she'd accepted it or not.

I was never going to measure up.

"I didn't take it," she said.

"Oh, well, it's nice that you had options," I replied dismissively.

It was time to end this conversation.

My feelings were all over the map where she was concerned and I just needed some time to myself to think without her trying to influence me one way or another.

"I'd better go, Alex. I worked all night, and I'm really tired."

"Okay," she agreed. "Back to the hotel, right?"

"I promise," I said, although my conviction was weak.

What would Travis say if I didn't go to his place?

She hugged me a third time, which had to be a record for her.

"I love you," she told me.

"I love you, too."

But as she walked away, back to her car and her smart friend, where they would undoubtedly drive to meet up with their equally smart and good-looking husbands, I couldn't help that same old feeling of resentment.

She was still being the bossy sister, trying to tell me who I could date or who I could sleep with.

Well, I'm forty years old.

I'm going to do whatever the hell I want.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I watched the body language of Alex and her sister while the two of them talked.

And I didn't need to hear the words to have a pretty good idea of what was being said.

Alex got in the car and slammed the door closed, much harder than was necessary.

But I decided to wait for her to speak. I'd been a last-minute guest to this little intervention, and I wasn't going to overstep my bounds.

"She's going to fucking call him," she muttered as she pulled out of the parking lot. "I just know it. She'll call him, he'll sweet talk her, and then she'll go to his house."

"What did she say about it?"

"It's like talking to a damn teenager," she ranted. "_She's in love…it's not his fault that he hit her…why can't I just be happy for her…_and she always has to throw it out there that Dad likes me best. What the hell is that about? We're not kids anymore."

"Does he?"

"Does he what?"

"Does he like you better?"

"Carolyn, that's not the point!" she shouted. "She uses that statement like a crutch, like an excuse for every damn screw-up! Besides, she only sees what she wants to see. Just because I didn't go crying to her every time I got into trouble, or was chastised by our father that doesn't mean that it didn't happen. Hell, it _still_ happens. Dad still can't get it through his thick head that Joe was not the perfect husband. He can't understand why I'm not more ambitious with my career, and he doesn't accept Bobby. So poor little Cathy...the whole world should fucking feel sorry for her because she wasn't able to carry her baby. You know what? There are a lot of women out there who are in that same situation, who went through what she did and more. And some of them don't have a beautiful six-year-old boy at home, whom she is still ignoring by the way. So she needs to quit the self-pity act and step up and do her job as a parent."

I rode in silence while she fumed.

And yeah, I'd poked her intentionally.

She needed to get it out, because I knew that she'd been holding back while she was talking to Cathy. She couldn't risk blowing a gasket in front of her, or else she would've sent her running straight to Travis.

By mostly holding her tongue, there was at least the hope that maybe she'd listened.

But while that may have been good for Cathy, it wasn't good for Alex.

And Alex was right. Cathy may accuse Alex of being the favorite, but I knew she'd had her share of troubles with her dad.

But I also knew that he was a good man.

Maybe he'd held onto different hopes for each of his two daughters, but I couldn't picture him blatantly favoring one over the other. More than likely, it was Cathy's own insecurities that were making her see things that weren't there.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" she asked me after another minute of silence.

"Sorry. That's what you get for being friends with someone who's into psychology."

She shook her head and blew out another frustrated breath, but then she smiled.

"Then tell me, Doctor," she said sarcastically. "Why is it that the ones we love can also be the most annoying?"

"Years of practice," I replied. "They know all of the right buttons to push. Me and my sister used to go at each other like a couple of rats fighting over the last piece of cheese."

I let the now-only-partly painful memory of my sister roll through me. Sometimes it hurt more than others to think of her, but today, even thinking about some of our silly arguments, it was almost comforting.

"What was her name?"

"My sister?" I stalled. I knew what she was talking about, but her name was caught somewhere in my throat. I hadn't said it in a very long time.

Her question also told me something else.

Alex hadn't looked it up.

She could've looked up the story of the accident and learned the details of my family.

But she hadn't. She was going to let me tell her in my own time.

"If you don't mind me asking," she added hesitantly. "I mean…"

"I'm working on not keeping secrets from you," I told her firmly.

And as hard as it was, the honesty of that statement, it was still easier to say than my sister's name.

I'd had no idea when I woke up this morning that today would be a day for breaking new ground in my relationship with Alex, but I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

I wanted us to be close.

Clos_er_.

I wanted to have that one female friend who I could always count on.

"From me?" she asked in surprise. We were at a red light, so she turned to look at me. "You can have secrets from me."

"That's just it. I don't want to," I said, but then the moment began to get too heavy and I had to back off. "I mean, obviously I'm not going to tell you intimate details about my sex life, but…"

"Thank you," she interrupted, putting her hand on my arm to stop my nervous chatter. "That means a lot."

She moved her hand back to the wheel and pulled away from the intersection.

"Shaina," I said after taking a deep breath. "Her name was Shaina. It's…um…it's Yiddish. It means beautiful."

Alex nodded thoughtfully, but didn't respond. I appreciated her shrewd ability to use silence even better than words.

After several more miles, I asked the question that had been on the tip of my tongue for years, but up until this point I had never been brave enough to ask.

"Why did you do it?"

She didn't pretend not to know what I meant.

It was obvious considering we'd been talking about sisters.

"She needed my help."

"It's more than that," I insisted. "It was a tremendous act of selflessness."

"I…can we…can we come back to that?" she asked me. Her voice sounded shaky, and I was taken aback by her sudden show of emotion.

"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry. It's not really any of my…"

"No, it's fine. I just…let's come back to it."

"Okay," I agreed quickly. I wanted to help her get back onto solid footing, so I brought us back around to our original topic. "So, how did you leave things with Cathy?"

"She promised me that she'd stay away from him. This week, at least. But I know she's lying."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Bobby sent me a text that said they were still waiting for Travis to come out of his house. Do you think I'm right? About him going to work today?"

"Yeah," I said confidently. "He'll go."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

"How's Alex doing with all of this?" I asked Bobby as we drove toward the address that Lupo had provided.

"About as expected. She's concerned. Confused."

"Pissed," I added.

"Yeah, well there's that," he replied with a smile.

"Did she tell her brothers?" I asked.

Because if Sean and Kevin knew, then there might be a line forming on Merchant Street.

"I don't think so. Not that she mentioned to me, anyway. But I bet that she will, depending on how Cathy reacts today."

"How do you think she'll react?"

"Like most every other woman in that situation. She'll deny that it's an issue. She'll grow angry at those who are trying to help, and she'll see it as interference. She'll say it was a one-time thing, and that he swears it'll never happen again, and she'll go back to him because she thinks she loves him."

It was sad that he had the whole scenario down to a science, but it was a fact.

And he'd probably nailed it perfectly.

"What do guys get out of that?" I wondered aloud.

"I have no idea."

"Huh. It looks like Lupo doesn't trust us to be good," I remarked as we pulled up in front of the building.

I pointed through the windshield at a car that was parked across the street.

In the front seat sat Lupo and Bernard.

"Ross doesn't keep you guys busy enough?" Bobby called out to them as we got out of the car. "'Cause you know, I can call him. See if he has anything for you two to do."

"We wanted to help keep an eye on him, that's all," Bernard replied. "He got out of the courthouse quicker than we expected. We didn't want you guys to miss him."

"So you're not here because you were afraid that we might get too rough with him?" I clarified.

"Hell no. We wanted to make sure that you're rough enough," Lupo said with a grin.

We all watched the building for a minute, but then Lupo added quietly, "And we wanted to talk to you guys about Ross."

Bobby and I looked at each other, each of us instantly on alert. He'd had his phone out, presumably sending an update to Alex, but he quickly finished typing and tucked his phone back in his pocket.

"What's up with Ross?" he asked.

Bernard looked at Lupo and gave him an encouraging nod.

"I'm not sure," Lupo said at last. "But something's going on. I went down to see Liz early this morning."

"_Liz_, huh?" I said, unable to resist the tease. "Maybe that's what's wrong with Ross. Are you chatting up his wife?"

"I went for x-rays," he said firmly, but he smiled a little and shook his head at me.

"Yeah, his rib has been hurting since he tackled that bouncer in the strip club last week," Bernard supplied.

"Go ahead," Bobby said. "What did Liz say?"

"She was on the phone when I got there. I didn't plan on listening or anything, but…"

"What did she say?" I asked slowly and pointedly.

"I could tell by her tone of voice that she was on with Cap. She told him not to worry about it. That if he'd done nothing wrong, then the truth would come to light soon enough."

"_If_ he'd done nothing wrong? She said it like she wasn't sure?"

"I don't know. Maybe," he replied with a shrug.

"What would he have done wrong?" Bobby asked.

"We have no idea," Bernard answered. "As far as we can tell, he's in good with the big man, and he's doing his job."

"What did Liz say when she saw you?" I asked Lupo.

"She didn't see me. I stepped back out of the room and gave her another minute and then came in again. She tried to act like everything was fine, but I could tell that something was on her mind."

"You asked?"

"I asked. She said it was nothing."

"Maybe it was nothing," I suggested, although I'd gotten to know Lupo enough to trust his instincts. He wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't have a gut feeling about it.

"I think it was something. And she seemed upset."

Now, I didn't like the sound of that at all. Because I really liked Liz. And it took a lot to make her upset.

I caught Bobby's eye again and gave him a nod.

We'd have to go talk to Ross.

As many times as he'd had our backs lately, we were going to make damn sure that we backed him up if someone was holding him to the fire.

And if he didn't tell us what we needed to know, then we'd go see Liz, too.

Or maybe we'd go see her anyway, just to offer up some moral support.

But one way or another, we were going to get to the bottom of this.

"Here he comes," Bernard said, nodding his head in the direction of Travis' building.

I looked across the street at the man who had just exited through a set of double doors, and I was hit with an intense feeling of anger.

This prick had hit Cathy, who was essentially, by extension, sort of like family.

And not only that, but something was going on with Ross. Something that had upset Liz.

And that was unacceptable.

Obviously Travis wasn't responsible for that, but it was his misfortune that I'd found out about it now. Because he was going to bear the brunt of my frustration.

"Watch long enough to be witnesses to the fact that we didn't do anything," Bobby told Lupo as we started across the street.

"And then leave when we _do_ do something," I added. "I don't need to have MCS detectives called into court to testify against me."

"What about a former MCS detective?" Bobby joked as we crossed the busy street.

"You won't be able to testify. You'll be my co-defendant," I told him with a grin.

"Well there you go. I think we're good."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"Are you kidding me? More of the goon squad?"

Those were Travis' brave words as Logan and I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of him.

We each had nearly a foot of height on him, and easily sixty or seventy pounds apiece.

But lucky for him, those weren't fighting words. I'd been called much worse.

So I still had my self-control.

Until the _next_ words that came out of his mouth.

"How many of you bastards is that little bitch going to send my way?"

"Little bitch?" Logan repeated as he stepped closer to Travis, backing him into the wall of the bus stop. "Which little bitch are you talking about? Your girlfriend?"

"No," he answered quickly.

It was amazing how swiftly his bravado had disappeared. But bullies were usually like that – foolish on the outside, and cowardly on the inside.

"Oh, so you must mean my _wife_," I stated as I stood shoulder to shoulder with Mike.

"Your…you're…?"

"Cathy's brother-in-law," I finished for him since he'd started to stammer.

"And you're the guy who likes to hit women," Logan said. He punctuated his statement with a poke of his finger to Travis' chest.

"I think there's been some kind of mistake."

"So you didn't hit her. Are you calling her a liar?"

"No! No, I…it's just that…she…"

"Oh _she_ did something. Of course," Mike said mockingly. "Don't they _always_ do something? They think they have the right to…I don't know…speak their minds? Have opinions? Have their own friends? It's crazy."

A few people had stopped along the sidewalk, but no one approached us.

That could be because we both still looked like cops, and Mike had his jacket pulled back to expose his holster.

Or it could be that New Yorkers chose not to get involved in matters that didn't concern them.

Whichever the case, despite our small audience, no one interfered. And Travis looked like he was desperately wishing that someone would.

His eyes darted around frantically for a moment, and then settled on me. I'm guessing that he decided I was the saner of the two of us.

"I told her that I was sorry. It won't happen again," he said.

"You're damn right it won't happen again," I told him. "And do you know why?"

He shook his head, and for a moment, I truly thought that he was going to pee his pants, but then he made a last ditch effort to regain his dignity.

"You can't threaten me. You're the police. I'll report you to your superior."

"We're not the police," I corrected. "And it's not a threat. It's a promise. Whatever you do to her, we'll do to you."

"Take _that_ to the cops," Mike goaded. "Go tell them what we said. Then you'll have to admit what you did."

He looked back and forth between us again, and I watched as he clenched his fists at his sides.

_Please hit me_, I said silently.

All I wanted was an excuse.

And if it had been just one of us, he probably would've taken a swing. But even he wasn't dumb enough to take on both of us.

"Do yourself a favor," I said, ready to end the confrontation. "Just stay away from her. Then you won't have to worry about keeping your little temper in check, okay?"

He remained silent, so I decided that we'd gotten our point across.

Logan and I took a couple of steps back from him and then started to go across the street.

"He's classic," Logan muttered. "He thinks he's too sexy for his suit."

"He's not going to turn her away. This isn't over."

"Maybe Alex had better luck than we did."

"Maybe."

But I had my doubts.

Like I'd told Mike earlier, the fact that Cathy didn't want to press charges told me that she was willing to accept what had happened.

How two women from the same set of parents could turn out so completely different was bewildering.

"No blows. I'm disappointed," Bernard said when we got back to their car.

"I was hoping he'd go first, but he didn't."

"Apparently he only likes to hit women," Mike said.

"You guys going to talk to Ross?"

"Yeah. We'll go there next."

"Let us know what happens."

We left Lupo and Bernard and went back to Mike's car.

"Maybe we did scare him good enough," Mike said. "He's still standing there."

And he was. He was still flattened against the bus stop just as he'd been when we stood in front of him.

He was probably waiting for his heart rate to settle down.

Guys like that…I got mad just thinking about it. He was probably a failure in his career and had never learned to accept any kind of responsibility.

Everything was always someone else's fault.

And it didn't seem right that his type was usually given a healthy dose of charisma, so it made it easier for them to lure in their prey.

As Mike drove us toward 1PP, I pulled out my phone to check in with Alex.

She sounded…something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Where are you?" I asked her.

"Almost back to the office. You?"

"We're just leaving Donker's place."

"How did it go?"

"He's a real piece of work. I'm not sure if we got through to him. What about you?"

"She says that she'll stay away from him this week," she said on a sigh.

"You don't believe her."

"Nope. But I don't know what else to do right now."

"Just keep talking to her," I encouraged.

It was killing me to hear her so down. I was glad that Carolyn had gone with her so that she wasn't alone, but still…I wished that _I_ was with her.

"I will. So, you guys are on your way back?"

"Um…no. Actually, Lupo and Bernard were at Donker's, and they mentioned that they think something is up with Ross. We're going to 1PP to talk to him."

"Something like what?"

I filled her in on what Lupo had told us.

"It may be nothing," I concluded.

"But if Liz was upset…"

"Right."

"We'll go talk to her," Alex said. "You guys talk to him, and then we'll meet up and compare notes."

"Okay," I agreed. Then I turned my head toward the window, away from Logan, and asked softly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. I waited, just listening to her breathe for a moment before she added, "We'll talk tonight, okay?"

"Uh huh. Bath, wine, massage…" I reminded her quietly.

"As if I could forget," she said, and I was relieved to note that it sounded like she was smiling.

I heard Carolyn say something to her, and Alex started laughing.

Yeah, it was definitely a good thing that she'd gone along with her.

"Oh, and hey," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Ask Mike about the construction of drainpipes in Rio."

We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone and looked at Mike.

"Bath, wine, massage?" he asked me as he waggled his eyebrows.

"Rio drainpipes?" I retorted, ignoring his tease.

I didn't know what the hell I was asking about, but the look on his face was priceless. Surprise followed by embarrassment followed by amusement.

"I knew she'd have to share that one," he said with a grin.

"I think I need to hear this story," I concluded.

"It can wait until dinner tonight," he replied with a shake of his head. "I'm guessing Carolyn will tell it better anyway."

We arrived at our old stomping ground and headed up to the eleventh floor.

"You're both still free men," Ross remarked as he let us into his office. "Or are you here to turn yourselves in?"

"For Donker?" Mike asked. "Nah, he wouldn't put up a fight, so we just had a little chat."

"You didn't make any threats, I hope."

"Nothing arrest-worthy," I assured him.

"Good. So, what brings you here today?"

"Um…we just wanted to…stop by and…see how…things are going," I said, stumbling through my sentence in old-school Goren fashion.

"We just talked yesterday," he reminded me. "Not much has changed since then."

He looked pointedly back and forth between me and Mike.

"So everything is good?" Mike asked him.

"It's fine," he said.

"And you would tell us if it weren't?" I asked.

"Okay, spill it. What do you want to know?"

"Um…we um…saw Lupo and Bernard this morning and…"

"Bernard said that you looked like something was bugging you," Mike finished. "And Lupo saw Liz this morning and said that she looked upset. So what gives?"

_So much for finessing the information from him_.

Ross sighed heavily and sat back in his chair.

"It's nothing," he said, but his tone said differently.

"Look Captain," Mike began. "If you don't want to tell us because it's too personal, that's fine. Say the word and we'll back off."

"But if you're in some kind of trouble," I added. "Then let us help you."

"I'm not in any kind of trouble. Not really," he said.

Then he got up and walked over to close the door of his office. He came back and sat on the front edge of his desk, right in front of us.

"I probably shouldn't even be talking to you right now," he said quietly, more to himself than to either of us.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I'm being vetted to take over as the Chief of Ds."

"That's great!" Mike said enthusiastically. "Congratulations!"

"I don't have the job yet. It's a long process, and I'm really the dark horse candidate. Besides that, I'm not even sure if I want the job."

"So what's the problem?" I asked. "And why does that mean you shouldn't talk to us?"

"They're talking to all kinds of people who have worked with me, under me, over me…anyone who may give them insight to my character."

"Okay…"

"They're looking at cases that were worked under my command."

I thought maybe that I knew where he was going. He had at least one black mark in his jacket because of me. Because of the Tates incident.

Was that what this was about? Surely they wouldn't hold that against him. I'd been at fault for that, and I'd served my punishment.

Maybe if I talked with the search committee and explained to them…

"The Jarrow case," Ross said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Kathy Jarrow?" I clarified.

I remembered that case like it was yesterday, but more for the conflict between me and Alex than for anything to do with Ross.

Although I had noticed tension between him and Liz at that time.

And I did remember being frustrated with Ross for discounting Kathy as a potential suspect.

"It's been alleged that I…hampered the investigation. They'll be coming to talk with you and Alex both."

"Who will? The search committee?"

"IAB. The search committee opened an investigation."

"What happened?" Mike asked.

"She was an old friend," Ross explained. "Her husband went missing. As it turned out, she'd killed him and his mistress."

"Ouch."

"Right," he agreed with a nod.

"But still…you guys caught her, right?" Mike asked.

There was more to this because even though I'd been annoyed with Ross at the time, he had ultimately allowed us to do our jobs.

It wasn't like he'd ordered us off the case, or insisted on dropping it.

"What is IAB going to ask us?"

"The allegation is that I had an inappropriate relationship with a murder suspect during an ongoing investigation."

"They're saying that you slept with her?" Mike asked.

Ross nodded slowly and then looked down at the rug.

Well, that explained why Liz was upset. They had been dating at the time of that case. True, it seemed like maybe things were a little rocky for them back then, but still…as far as I knew, they'd still been together.

"Aren't you going to ask?" Ross asked as he finally looked up at me.

"Ask you what?" I replied.

"If it's true."

"That's none of my business. IAB can question me all they want to on the facts of the case. What you do in your personal life is…personal."

"I appreciate your support," he said. "But I worked hard to earn your respect, and I'm not going to throw it away over some callous allegation. It's not true. Not even close."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "So here's the next question. What sparked this inquiry? I can assure you that there's nothing in that case file to indicate any hint of impropriety on your part."

"So why would a routine vetting start an IAB inquiry?" Mike posed, catching on to my train of thought.

"Exactly."

"Someone who wants to make sure I don't get the job," Ross suggested.

"Someone who wants payback maybe," Mike said.

"But I'm not even sure that I want this job," Ross argued. "How would that be payback?"

I caught Mike's eye, and I knew that he was thinking the same thing.

"Maybe this is just the beginning," I said.

And maybe we were wrong.

Maybe it _was_ just about the job.

But I knew one thing for sure.

We were going to find out.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Liz POV**

* * *

It was no surprise when, just before lunch, Alex and Carolyn walked into my morgue.

In fact, the only real surprise was that it took them as long as it did.

Lupo had caught me at a weak moment this morning, and I hadn't been able to mask my emotions as quickly as I would've liked. He knew that I was upset about something, and my vague deflection was an amateurish attempt at best.

A good detective like him wouldn't buy it for a second.

And he hadn't.

And then he'd likely gone and done exactly as I'd expected.

He'd told the others.

Either Bobby or Mike or Alex or Carolyn…it didn't matter which one. As soon as he told one, they would all know.

That was the downside to having friends.

They could read me, even when I didn't want to be read.

And they wanted to help me, even when I didn't want to be helped.

So even though I'd known that anywhere from one to four of the aforementioned friends would descend upon my morgue at some point today, the fact that Alex and Carolyn showed up didn't make me happy.

It made me nervous.

Because I wasn't ready to admit to them the things that were going through my head, and they were both too damn perceptive for me to lie.

So I decided to attempt a good stall tactic instead.

"Social call or business?" I asked them when they came into the room, forcing myself to be pleasant.

They were, after all, my friends. My best friends.

And just because I was trying to keep something secret from them didn't mean that I should be rude.

Besides, it did make me feel good to know that they cared.

But I wasn't sure if they would be able to _understand_.

I mean, look at them. Look at their husbands.

Had either of them ever had a moment of doubt in their respective spouse?

It was unlikely.

Although maybe I wasn't giving either of them enough credit.

I watched them as they looked at each other.

"There's no need to fabricate an excuse," I said with a sigh. "I know why you're here."

"You do?" Alex asked innocently.

"Sure. Lupo talked to you."

"Lupo?"

It was apparently Carolyn's turn to pretend to be clueless.

"Oh for God's sake," I said as I set down my scalpel and pulled off my gloves. "Just ask."

"Don't be mad at Lupo. He was just concerned."

"I know. I knew when he left here that it was only a matter of time. Let me guess. Bobby and Mike are with Danny, right?"

They at least had the good sense to look embarrassed.

"It's nothing," I said firmly.

"So you don't need us for anything."

"No."

"No looking into something…"

"Nope."

"No friend to listen…"

And there she had me.

Because I'd been stewing down here with no one but the cadavers to hear my insecurities.

"This has really gotten blown out of proportion," I said. I sat down in one of the chairs and waved for them to take a seat as well. "It's really not that big of a deal. I guess my reticence to talk about it has made it seem more important than it is."

They waited patiently while I battled with myself, and then decided to bite the bullet.

"Do you remember the case with Kathy Jarrow?"

"Yes," Alex replied quickly. "It was Bobby's first case back after his suspension."

Right. Dissention had run rampant back then.

Alex and Bobby were arguing.

Me and Danny were on the skids…it had not been a good time.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

"IAB started an inquiry into Danny's involvement on that case."

"Involvement?"

"He's being accused of sleeping with a murder suspect during an ongoing investigation. Sleeping with Kathy."

I watched Alex's face to see her reaction.

What was I looking for?

A sign that maybe she knew something I didn't?

Denial or acknowledgement?

I was disappointed in myself for not being sure…for not trusting Danny at his word.

He'd said that nothing had happened.

_Back then_ he'd said that.

This time around, I hadn't asked because, well…because that would make it seem like I hadn't believed him then.

"And you think there's some truth to the allegation?" Carolyn asked me in surprise. "Or are you just upset that his reputation might take a hit?"

"Uh…both actually."

"I've got to ask," Alex said. "And not to make light of the personal aspect of this, but what brought this on anyway? Why is anyone looking into his old cases?"

"He's being considered for the position of Chief of Ds," I told them proudly. And I was proud of him. He'd worked long and hard, and even just being considered was an honor, especially since he'd stopped playing their games a while ago.

"That's great," Alex replied. "Does he want it?"

"He's not sure. But a committee was assigned to vet the candidates, and after looking into some of his old cases, they requested an inquiry from IAB."

"So something sparked their interest," Carolyn said, looking at Alex.

"I don't know what it would be," she said. "Nothing in the file would indicate any kind of improper relationship."

"Because you didn't write it down?" I asked her. "Or because you didn't think it existed?"

"They were old friends," Alex said. "I did think that she was pushing the friendship angle to make him keep us at bay, but Liz, you can't really think that he would…"

"Why not? We were struggling at the time. You remember," I said.

"What does he say about it?"

"I asked him back then. After the case. He told me that nothing happened. Of course, we were trying to work things out between us at the time."

"And now?"

"Now I haven't asked again. He's having his life examined. How would it make him feel to realize that his own wife isn't sure of his story?"

"You need to talk to him," Alex said. "Tell him how you're feeling about it. You have to know that he's picked up on your mood already."

She had a point.

"It's only going to make it worse if you don't talk about it. Trust me. I know," Carolyn said.

I looked at her and raised my eyebrow questioningly.

"Did you read some of those text messages that Mike got from Rhonda Hagen? And that was someone he _did_ have sex with. Those messages were explicit in recalling some of their times together, and then she pretended as though they'd been together recently. _After _Mike and I had started dating. So yeah, I know a lot about jealousy and how it makes you feel a little guilty that maybe you don't completely trust him…the only thing that helped was talking it out. Because then I realized how he felt about the whole thing, too, and by talking to him, it took all of the guesswork and miscommunication out of the equation."

I hadn't really considered what that case had done to her and Mike. I mean, I knew that it had to be tough, but I'd only thought about it in an abstract way. Not in any kind of specifics.

And maybe it wasn't exactly like this…okay, it _definitely_ wasn't exactly like this.

In fact, what she'd gone through was worse.

But she was still right.

"Besides," she added. "He's probably more worried about what you're thinking than about anything this IAB investigation will turn up."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "You're right. I'll talk to him."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

We left Liz after nearly an hour of talking, and I'm happy to say that her mood had improved considerably.

I didn't believe for a second that Danny had slept with Kathy.

Even if he and Liz were fighting at the time, he wouldn't have stooped so low as to sleep with a woman whose husband was missing. That would've just been wrong on too many levels, and while I haven't always been a Ross fan, I did think that he had a healthy set of morals.

I was very curious as to what had started the IAB inquiry in the first place, and I was anxious to find out what Bobby and Mike had learned from talking with the captain.

"What do you think?" Carolyn asked me as we got into the car.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But it makes me feel like I'm waiting to see what happens next."

"Me, too," she agreed. "Because it'll be something."

IAB didn't just do random investigations and the idea that the vetting process had sparked it was unfounded.

Someone else started the ball rolling.

The questions were who and why.

I let my mind wander over the morning's events as I drove us back to the office.

As much as I'd tried to mask it, Carolyn's question from earlier had shaken me.

_Why did you do it?_

Many, many people over the years had asked me that very same question.

My party-line answer was that it was the right thing to do.

My sister wanted a child, but couldn't have one. I could have one, but didn't want one.

It was a win-win situation.

And even though those facts were true, it wasn't why I'd done it.

Not ultimately, anyway.

Only two people knew the honest answer, and Cathy wasn't one of them.

It was just me and Bobby.

And for a long time, it had just been me.

I wasn't sure if I could tell Carolyn or not.

I wanted to. I felt honored that she had opened up to me, and wanted to share her most personal feelings.

And I was disappointed in myself that I hadn't been able to immediately reciprocate.

The very first question she'd asked I'd had to put on the brakes.

And true, she'd asked the most difficult one of all. I would've pretty much answered any other question.

But that one…it would just have to wait, at least for awhile if not forever.

"About earlier," she said quietly when I parked in front of the office. "I don't want you to feel pressured to answer."

It was almost eerie how she knew what I was thinking about.

Bobby did it to me all of the time, but I was used to him.

Although, I guess our conversation had been kind of the breakthrough type, and it was only normal that she was rehashing it in her mind, just as I was replaying it in mine.

Which also meant that she was probably thinking about her sister.

"How old would she be?" I asked her.

And maybe it wasn't fair of me to continue asking her questions when I wouldn't answer hers, but I also thought that maybe it would help her to talk about Shaina.

Because sometimes, it was just nice to have someone ask about a lost loved one.

If she'd been keeping her memories locked up, then maybe it was time to let them out.

_Good advice all the way around, Alex_, I told myself derisively.

"Forty," she told me.

Forty. Just like Cathy.

I wondered what Cathy was doing right now.

Hopefully, she was sleeping in her hotel room. I'd have to check in with her later.

"What did she do?"

"She…um…she was a teacher. A high school English teacher."

We sat quietly together in the car while I worked up the nerve to tell her, but then Carolyn startled me by touching me on the arm. I must have really been zoned out.

"Really, it's okay," she said. "I was curious, that's all. If it's too personal, then I understand. We can let it go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she replied with a smile. "But you know you're going to have to tell me something else. I mean, you do owe me a good story about Bobby."

I barked out a laugh as we got out of the car.

I did owe her, although her Mike story obviously wasn't a secret. He must have known that she would tell me, or else she wouldn't have brought it up when I was on the phone with Bobby.

Because her first loyalty was to him, and I could understand that.

Obviously.

I wracked my brain for a good not-so-secret story to share with her as we climbed the steps and entered the lobby.

There, inside, lounging against the back wall, were two men in suits. And something about them was wrong.

"Alex Goren?" one of them called out. They both stood up from the wall, and one of them began to reach into his jacket.

Call me paranoid or crazy or whatever…but call Carolyn the same thing because she and I both had our weapons drawn and pointed at the two men within a second of entering the lobby.

They drew theirs as well, so the four of us faced off against each other.

"What do you want?" I shouted.

"Put your guns down," one man said.

"You first," Carolyn told them.

"I'm going to show you my ID," the other man said as he slowly reached into his pocket. He pulled out a badge and held it up to us. "NYPD. IAB. Are you Alex Goren?"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," I muttered as I shoved my gun back into its holster. "IAB has taken to stalking now? You couldn't just call me to set up an interview?"

"Do you always draw down on men standing in your office building?" the other guy retorted. "That has to be bad for business."

I rolled my eyes at him and looked at Carolyn, who by this point had put her gun away, too.

"Maybe if you weren't lurking in the shadows, and then reaching under your jacket…" she snapped to them.

I had a feeling that her heart was pounding as hard as mine. It was surely the byproduct of recently being on a hit list, but still…they _were_ acting suspicious.

"We're sorry for startling you," the first guy said. "If you have a few minutes, we'd just like to ask you some questions. Can we go up to your office?"

"That's pretty presumptuous of you," Carolyn said. She was clearly still irritated, and I liked to see her showing some temper rather than keeping it inside. "Maybe you should schedule an appointment like everyone else."

"No, it's fine," I told her. "We can talk right here. How long will it take me to tell you guys that you're wasting department time and resources by pursuing these petty and ridiculous allegations?"

"Petty? I don't think that there's anything petty about murder."

"Murder?" I asked in surprise. The lobby doors opened, and a couple of tenants came into the building.

"Please, Mrs. Goren. Let's go up to your office and discuss this in private."

"After you," I said, gesturing toward the elevator. The two men went ahead of me, and I looked at Carolyn.

"Call Bobby," I said quietly. "Find out where they are, and get them back here. I don't like this at all."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I got Carolyn's call just as Mike was circling the block in search of a parking spot.

"IAB's here, talking to Alex."

"They didn't waste any time," I mused. "Everybody likes to jump on a potential sex scandal, huh?"

"They're talking murder, Bobby. I don't know the details, but Alex just went up with them. She told me to tell you to hurry. I'm going up now."

"Shit," I muttered. "Hurry up, Mike. IAB's in the office."

Within five minutes, we'd illegally parked and hurried up to the office.

I didn't like the idea of Internal Affairs dropping in on us unexpectedly, and I most definitely didn't trust them. That one IAB jerk had tried to pin a series of drug charges on me.

I didn't have much confidence in their competency as a whole.

"That is absolutely the dumbest thing that I have ever heard," Alex was saying loudly when I walked into the office. Mike was right on my heels.

The room was charged, with Alex in an adversarial stance and Carolyn right next to her.

The two IAB officers were standing uncomfortably in the middle of the room.

"I didn't ask your opinion," one guy said.

"Yeah, actually you did," Alex shot back. "In fact, you specifically just asked me if I thought that Captain Ross had the deviancy necessary to conspire to commit murder."

"What's this all about?" I asked.

"Robert Goren?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dave McCabe," the older of the two said. "This is my partner Ryan Spitzer. We're with IAB. We were just explaining to your wife…"

"They're saying that Ross and Kathy Jarrow were in on it together," Alex interrupted. "That he was sleeping with her, and so they planned to kill Woody Sage and Avery Hubert."

"That's ridiculous," I said as I crossed the room to stand next to her.

"That's what I said," Alex agreed.

We shared a look, and then together we turned back toward the investigators.

"The charges are valid," Spitzer said pointedly. "And we can appreciate that you don't want to speak ill of your former boss. But we need to know a couple of things. First off, why doesn't your report indicate that Captain Ross had a personal relationship with the suspect? And secondly, how did his relationship effect your investigation?"

I could feel Alex's anger even though I wasn't touching her. The foot of space between us was electric. Because, essentially, they were questioning our ethical integrity by suggesting that maybe we had covered something up.

"The charges are absurd," she began, carefully enunciating each word. "And if you had half a brain you'd realize that. Did you even read the case file? I mean for content, not just skimming it in search of dirt on Ross."

"We read the file," McCabe replied.

"Sage and Hubert were running away together. They staged the carjacking so that they could each escape their respective spouses."

"We know," Spitzer interrupted.

Alex looked at Mike, who was standing on the other side of me.

"Do you want to tell them?" she asked him in annoyance.

"How is he related to this case?" Spitzer asked.

"He's not. That's the point. He'd probably never even heard of it until today, but you can bet your ass that he's already figured out the holes in your brilliant theory."

Everyone in the room looked at Mike.

"Well?" McCabe asked him.

"Ross wouldn't have needed to kill anyone. Woody was leaving Kathy. If he'd wanted her, which by the way, he _didn't_…but if he did, he could've had her. There was no reason to kill anybody."

"The reason for murder," I finished. "Was because Kathy couldn't stand the idea of Woody running off with a younger woman. It had nothing to do with Ross. He wasn't sleeping with her. And he sure as hell didn't have anything to do with the murder."

"Aside from that, this was Kathy's second husband. She killed the first one, you know. Do you want to pin that on Ross, too?"

"No," McCabe said quietly. "No, we didn't…um…"

"You jumped on the scent of scandal," Carolyn accused. "You didn't thoroughly investigate the charges before you started making your inquest public. You'll be lucky if Ross doesn't file a complaint against _you_."

"What brought this on?" I asked. "What made you guys start asking about this case?"

"We got an anonymous tip."

"You're willing to ruin the MCS captain's reputation because of an anonymous tip?"

"_And_ we interviewed Kathy Jarrow. She confirmed the relationship, and his part in the conspiracy."

"She's a convicted felon looking at life in prison. She never said a word about Ross being involved in any of this at the time. In fact, if I recall correctly, she was pretty pissed off at him for _not_ protecting her from our investigation," I told them.

In their defense, they did seem remorseful. I wondered who was pulling _their _strings.

"Are we good here, gentlemen?" Alex asked. "Because we have a lot of work to do."

"Thank you for your time," McCabe said.

He and Spitzer left our office, and I blew out a frustrated breath.

"All this because Jarrow wants to get payback for him brushing off her advances?" Carolyn asked. "That seems pretty harsh. And delayed."

"Someone else started this. They interviewed her _after_ getting the tip," Alex stated.

"I'm not sure if I believe that this is over," Mike mumbled.

And I had to agree with him.

I called Ross to update him on the latest, and then the four of us got back to work. We'd spent the morning on non-client related business, so we had some catching up to do.

By five-thirty, my eyes were bleary from going through ten-year-old security footage from JFK in hopes of spotting either the dad or the boy from Alex's custodial kidnapping case.

"Ross just sent me a text," Alex said, poking her head into my office. "He spoke with the commissioner, and the witch hunt has been called off. He received an official apology."

"So it's over," I said cautiously.

"I guess," she replied with a shrug, although she didn't look convinced. "Any luck with the security footage?"

"No. Unless my goal was to go blind," I answered as I pushed back from my computer. She walked into the room and came around to sit on the edge of my desk.

"And why weren't you working in here today?" I added.

"I didn't want to be distracted," she said.

"Alex…" I chastised. "You know that you can't lie to me."

"I'm not lying to you," she answered. Then she scrubbed both hands over her face and sighed. "I'm lying to myself," she admitted. "I…wasn't doing a very good job of concentrating today, and I guess I didn't feel like talking. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said quickly. "You don't always have to talk."

I picked up her hand where it rested on her thigh and held it in mine. I really wanted to ask what was on her mind, but I needed to wait for her to be ready. She didn't take long.

"Carolyn asked me about Nate. About why I did it."

"Did you tell her?"

"No. I couldn't," she said softly. "She was opening up to me, and I just…shut down."

"I'm sure she doesn't hold it against you. There are some things too private to share with anyone."

"Except you," she reminded me as she brought our hands up to her lips. She kissed the knuckles gently.

"Except me," I agreed. It never ceased to thrill and amaze me that I was privy to her deepest, darkest secrets.

"So," she said firmly. "I just need to shake this mood. This whole day…Cathy, Liz, Ross…it's been depressing. Let's go to dinner and have some fun. And then I think we have plans for afterwards, too, right?"

"We most definitely do. I'm ready if you are."

"I'm going to give Cathy a quick call. I want to make sure she's keeping her promise. Why don't you call Ross and see if he and Liz want to join us? They could probably use a night out, too."

We each made our phone calls. Cathy promised that she was at the hotel, and Alex couldn't prove otherwise, so she took her at her word.

Ross thanked me for the offer, but said that he and Liz needed the night to themselves.

I could understand that.

So, along with Mike and Carolyn, we headed for McNally's.

Lupo and Connie were already there.

We only spent the first ten minutes bringing each other up to speed on things.

And then, by unspoken agreement, there was no more talk of business.

Instead, I got to hear Carolyn retell the incredible feat of Mike going off the second-story balcony in the buff in order to fetch a replacement key.

"And let me tell you," Mike said with a grin. "They do _not_ use sturdy material for their drainpipes."

"You fell?" Lupo asked him.

"Let's just say that the drainpipe took me on a nice ride down to the ground," he answered.

"And then you went into the lobby? With nothing on?" Connie asked.

"Hey, how else was I supposed to get in the room?"

"Yeah, it's too bad you don't know anyone who's good at picking locks," Alex remarked.

"It's not like I had my tools on me," Carolyn argued.

"You pick locks?" Lupo asked her.

"I haven't always been a cop," she replied with a smile. "Alex does it, too."

"Oh, thanks. Throw me under the bus with the only active cop at the table," Alex teased.

"I'm not going to arrest you," Lupo said as a slow grin spread across his face. "I just want you to teach me how to do it."

That launched a whole tutorial by Alex and Carolyn on how to successfully break into a locked building.

We were having a lot of fun, but still…by nine o'clock, Alex and I were ready to call it quits.

It had been a long week already and it was only Monday.

"I'm going to have the poker game at my place Friday night, okay?" Mike said as I stood up to leave. "So get the word out. And be prepared to lose your shirt."

"Have you already forgotten about the last poker game?" I asked him.

"Nah, but that just means that I'm due," he assured me. "You're coming, too, right Lupo?"

"Poker? Sure, why not?"

"Will John be back?" Alex asked him.

"Where's John?" Lupo asked.

"Albuquerque," Mike said with a grin. "_Already_. I mean, come on. You guys just got back two days ago."

"What's in Albuquerque?" Connie questioned.

"Not what. Who," I told her.

"Mary Shannon, the U.S. Marshal," Mike supplied.

"Leave him alone," Alex chastised, and then looked pointedly at me. "It's good for him."

Oh yeah.

Because if he was thinking about Mary then he _wasn't_ thinking about Alex.

Of course, no one else at the table knew about that.

"He's had a rough time lately," Alex explained.

"Well, I don't care who he's dating as long as he brings his money to the poker game," Lupo stated. "Or, is he good since he owns casinos?"

"Bobby's the one to beat," Mike admitted. "I wouldn't worry too much about John."

We said our goodbyes and left the others in the restaurant. We got home, and it was comforting to see that our brand new security system was up and running.

"Did they give you the code?" Alex asked me. I'd been the one to call earlier to check on the status.

"Yeah. We put it in, and then we can change it so that no one will know it except us."

"I guess we don't have to worry about closing the blinds tonight then, huh?"

"Are you planning on strolling through the house naked again?" I asked with interest.

"Maybe," she said with a smirk. "I'm not ruling anything out."

But she didn't. Instead, she spent nearly an hour in the bathtub, during which time she drank three glasses of wine. I left her alone except for going in to refill her glass.

When I finally heard the water start to drain, I opened the door. She was toweling off.

"Come in and lay down. I'll give you that massage," I told her.

"You don't have to. I know you're tired, too."

"Do I need to throw you over my shoulder again? Or are you going to cooperate like a good little girl?"

"You're really asking for it," she said, but she broke into a smile.

I held her gaze with mine as I stepped up close to her. I took the towel from her hands and dropped it onto the floor.

"Yes I am," I said, my voice a low rumble already thick with desire. "So what are you going to do about it?"

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Alex POV**

* * *

Friday arrived amazingly fast, and all week long my sense of foreboding increased.

I'd thought that maybe this thing with Ross was going to open back up again, but so far so good.

I'd checked in with Liz on Wednesday.

"_I took your advice, and talked to Danny,"_ she'd told me.

"_And?"_

"_And we aired a lot of buried issues."_

"_Issues involving me and Bobby?"_

"_Yes. And others. Lord knows you two weren't the only cause for fights between us. But things have gotten a lot better lately, and it was time to stop pretending that those problems never existed. Otherwise it would only be a matter of time before they reared their ugly head again."_

"_So it's good now?"_

"_It's good,"_ she'd agreed. Then she laughed just a little, and added, "_It's _really_ good."_

"_Okay,"_ I said on a chuckle. _"I'm sorry, but I don't want to know details."_

"_Are you sure?"_ she teased. _"Because I'm a doctor, you know. I know things…" _

"_Yeah, and I used to work Vice," _I reminded her on a laugh.

"_Ah, well, practical app trumps book smarts every time," _she conceded_. "Although…"_

"_Friday night," _I interrupted._ "They're playing poker at Mike's, so Carolyn is coming over here. Why don't you come, too?"_

"_Oh, then I can give you details. And maybe you can share some of your trade secrets."_

"_We'll see,"_ I'd said carefully. _"It'll depend on how much I have to drink."_

"_Fair enough,"_ she'd said, and I was so glad to hear her happy again.

She'd thanked me for our help in getting rid of the IAB dogs, and said that so far, Ross hadn't heard another word other than to get an apology.

So if it wasn't Ross causing my radar to go off, then my money was on Cathy.

Since it was Friday, and we were supposed to have lunch, I called her at noon.

She told me that she was still at the hotel, but that she wanted to take a rain check on our lunch date. She said that she'd put in a lot of hours this week, and so she was going to get some more sleep before taking another shift tonight.

But my gut was screaming that something was amiss, and I trusted my instincts more than I trusted my sister.

"I'm going to see Cathy," I told Bobby as I poked my head into his office.

"For lunch?"

"No. She cancelled. I'm going to check on her."

"Want me to come?" he offered as he set down the file he'd been looking at and pushed back from his desk.

"No," I said with a shake of my head. But I couldn't resist walking around his desk to give him a kiss. "Thank you, but I probably need to do this myself. And it may be nothing."

"Call me if you need me," he said with understanding.

I appreciated his patience with me lately.

I'd been unfocused and distant for the past several days, and even though I knew it, I couldn't seem to stop it.

In fact, we hadn't even made love since Monday night. That was a very long time for us, especially when no injuries were involved.

I had to quit being so emotionally detached. This thing with Cathy could go on indefinitely.

I couldn't let her take over my life.

I took his face between my hands and kissed him again, this time with more purpose.

"Thank you," I told him after the lingering kiss.

"You don't ever have to thank me," he replied softly. He ran his hand along my arm in a gentle caress.

"Yes I do," I insisted. "And tonight, after your poker game, I'll be sure to thank you properly."

"You just like me when I've been smoking cigars," he teased.

"I just love you. Period," I answered before kissing him once again. Then I reluctantly pulled back, and switched gears.

"Any luck with the Jennings file?" I asked him.

The missing boy thing. Bobby and I had been looking through the documentation all week, but so far it seemed as though the Bureau had done everything right.

"I've got a few thoughts on it," he admitted, which didn't surprise me at all. He'd been going through the old phone logs and financial information.

"And?"

"And we'll talk about it when you get back. I'm going to pull on a few threads and see if I can get something to unravel."

So I left him in the office and went by Cathy's hotel.

Only to learn that she'd checked out.

On Tuesday.

I went back to the car and called Steve, doing my best to question him on the whereabouts of his wife without letting on that I was overly concerned.

"I assume she's still staying with her boyfriend," he said bitterly. "To be honest, I haven't heard from her in over a week. She hasn't come by to see Nate at all."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to maintain my cool.

I knew why she'd waited a few days to see Nate, but that was no excuse for not calling. And surely her bruise looked better now. She could've made the effort.

"Okay, I'm sorry to bother you. I just thought I'd ask," I said on a sigh. "So, is everything okay with Nate?"

"You mean, is he upset that his mother is nowhere to be found? You know what? Not as upset as he should be. She checked out a long time ago, and he probably saw it coming before I did."

I didn't blame him for his frustration. In fact, I was right there with him on that.

I hung up with Steve and called Bobby.

"I'm going over to Travis' place," I told him.

"I'll meet you there. Wait for me."

I'd known that would be his response, and that was fine.

I would wait.

Guys like Travis were unpredictable, and it wasn't that I was afraid of him, but there was certainly no reason for me to approach him alone.

If he was even home. He _should_ be at work.

But like I said, my internal alarm was wailing.

Fifteen minutes later, Bobby parked behind me out in front of Travis' building.

"What am I going to do if she's moved back in with him?" I asked him as we walked up to the front door. "How can I make her understand the enormity of her mistake?"

"You can't," he said with a shake of his head. "You're doing all that you can. But you can't live her life for her."

I pushed the button for the apartment that was marked with Travis' name.

Cathy answered.

"It's me," I said. "Let me in."

"Alex…"

"Let me in," I repeated firmly.

The sound of the buzzer went off immediately and Bobby pulled the door open.

We went down the hall and around the corner and found that Cathy was waiting just outside of the apartment door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked me in a harsh whisper.

"I'm going to ask you the same thing."

"I promised to stay away until Friday."

"You checked out of your hotel on Tuesday! Damn it, Cathy, you barely even lasted a day!"

"This isn't your business, Alex. I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

"Who is it, baby?" I heard Travis call from somewhere inside.

He _was_ home in the middle of the work day.

And she was standing here looking every bit like I'd just interrupted a nooner.

"It's the super. I'll be right there," she told him.

"You can't even tell him the truth about who's at the door? Cathy, you're throwing away everything!" I shouted. I was on the verge of coming unglued. "When was the last time you saw your son?"

"What do you care? He's _my _son, Alex. Not yours. So give it a rest, okay?" she said sharply. Then she looked at Bobby for the first time since we'd arrived, and added, "Go back to your perfect fucking life, and leave me the hell alone."

I hated how much she seemed to resent Bobby, and it was for completely different reasons than my father. Besides, dad was starting to come around. Sort of.

But Cathy…she seemed to despise the fact that Bobby _was_ the right man for me. That he _was _kind and loving and attentive…and she resented the fact that we'd found each other.

But isn't that what she'd had with Steve?

But still, aside from all of that, there was something about the way she'd said that last sentence that struck a nerve.

And I don't mean the specific words.

Something else.

And combined with the way that she looked…

"You're _high_, aren't you?" I asked her as I grabbed hold of her forearm.

"Let me go."

"What is it? Coke?"

"Cathy!" Travis shouted.

"Alex, please…" she begged.

I felt Bobby's hand on my shoulder, and I slowly relaxed my grip on her arm. I couldn't believe that I was going to walk away from her, but what else could I do? I felt helpless.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she told me. "I promise."

And then she slipped back inside of the apartment and slammed the door.

Numbly, I followed Bobby back outside.

"How did it come to this?" I asked him. We stood side by side, leaning against the outside of my car.

He held my hand, but so far, he hadn't said a word.

I wondered if he was thinking about Frank.

"I don't know," he said quietly.

"I just can't believe she's doing this. Am I right? Was she on drugs?"

"I think so," he agreed, even though in my head I was begging him to tell me that I was wrong. "And she didn't deny it."

"I guess that helps explain her bad choices lately."

"Maybe it's a good thing that she's staying away from Nate right now," he said quietly.

"Maybe."

"Are you okay?"

Was I?

My sister was doing drugs and had just gone back to her abusive boyfriend.

And I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

I hated to feel like a failure, but Bobby was right. I couldn't live her life for her. And she certainly wasn't listening to any advice right now.

There wasn't much I could do except wait for the crash.

But I _was_ going to tell Steve. I had to, for Nate's sake.

Bobby and I went back to work and finished out the day. He did have an interesting lead on the Jennings case.

"The Jennings' finances were modest," he told once we were in his office. I sat on the edge of his desk while he was in his chair. Our usual position for a briefing. "They paid their bills each month, but they weren't saving any money. They didn't have anything extra."

"Okay," I said, encouraging him to continue.

"So if Paul Jennings ran off with Adam, how could he afford to do it so efficiently?"

"You think that he didn't? You think someone else took the boy, and that Paul's note is legit?"

According to the Bureau's notes, the boy had been abducted from his elementary school parking lot. Witnesses saw him get into a green station wagon, but no one was concerned.

Paul Jennings owned a green station wagon.

But the problem was that Jennings had a rock solid alibi. He'd been across town, picking up a package at the post office. Not only was he on their security camera, but the car was visible through the front windows as well.

The next day, the police obtained a witness statement that said she'd seen the boy with a young woman at JFK. That lead was followed and the suspicion was that he and the woman had gotten on a plane to London.

But the flight manifest didn't provide the necessary proof, which meant that if it was him, the abductor had been in possession of very high-quality false identification.

And the security footage at Heathrow came up empty.

That night, Paul had disappeared, leaving a note stating that he had to search for his son and that he wouldn't rest until he found him.

During the first month, he sent three letters to his ex-wife, all post-marked from varying cities in England.

He was still looking.

He wasn't coming home until he found Adam.

And then there was nothing.

For ten years.

Brooke Jennings had harassed the FBI for a decade but no additional evidence was found.

Three weeks ago, she'd been watching the news and a reporter had been live in London. She swears that Paul was in the background. We'd seen the footage, and it was impossible to determine if the man was actually her ex-husband, but regardless, we had agreed to look into the case.

The Bureau theory was that Paul himself had arranged the kidnapping. Brooke had recently petitioned for sole custody. Paul had a drug arrest on his record. It didn't look good for him.

But Bobby was right. Without funds, how could he have gotten such good fake passports? How could he have hired someone to help him abduct the boy?

"I got Adam's hospital records," Bobby said as he scanned over the various papers on his desk.

The direction of his statement was from left field, but I was used to his circular approach.

"And?"

"He had several visits between the ages of three and seven. Broken arm, twice. Broken rib. Ocular fracture," he said, reading from the report he'd pulled out. "That's an awful lot for a little kid."

"You think someone was beating him. Why wouldn't the doctors have picked up on that?"

"Different hospitals, legitimate excuses…I don't know. Maybe it's because they seemed like a nice middle class family and so whatever story was told seemed plausible. No one wants to believe that normal-looking people might be beating their kid."

And suddenly, things were making sense.

Paul wasn't the abuser. If he had been, he wouldn't have kidnapped Adam.

He took him to protect him from Brooke, who was on the verge of getting sole custody.

"You think he had help from an advocacy group. Some type of underground assistance for battered spouses and children."

He nodded at me as he tossed the paper back onto the desk.

"So now what?" I asked him.

"I guess we need to see if we can find some of these groups and determine whether or not anyone helped Paul ten years ago."

"So, assuming we're right and they are living happily in the UK, we'll find them and disrupt the life of a seventeen year old boy."

I had a problem with that.

And maybe I shouldn't, but I did.

If Paul had truly rescued Adam from a bad situation, then why in the world would we want to intervene?

Of course, we could be wrong and Paul was just a drug addict who had stolen his son away from his loving mother.

"Let's do what we can to find them and then we can assess the situation" Bobby said, reading my mind.

"Okay," I agreed. And maybe this case was bugging me so much because it hit a little close to home.

It was still blowing my mind that Cathy was doing drugs today.

How long had that been going on?

And had she been high at some point when she'd had Nate?

What if she did try to get custody now?

Would I blame Steve at all if he took the boy and ran, just to keep him safe?

"Alex," Bobby said, pulling me from my thoughts. "Are you ready to go?"

"Home?"

"Yeah. It's five-thirty," he replied gently as he rubbed his hands over my thighs.

"You've got your poker game," I stated. I really had to get my head back in the game. "Have you talked to Mike?"

"He checked in a couple of hours ago," he said with a nod.

Mike and Carolyn had been out all day. The Westchester Field Office had requested help creating a profile of a suspect in an active murder investigation.

"What about John? Is he back?"

"Mike said that John got in around lunch time, so he should be there tonight, too."

"How many trips does that make this week?" I asked with a smile as I hopped off of his desk.

"Three," he answered, returning my grin. "I guess it's nice in Albuquerque this time of year."

"Did my dad get back with you? Is he coming?"

"Your dad, Kevin, Sean, Lupo, Ross…"

"You're going to make a killing," I teased as we locked up the office.

"Nah," he deflected. "It's someone else's turn."

"You don't have to throw the games," I told him. "You know that, right?"

"I'm on shaky ground with your dad as it is," he countered. "If I clean up again, he'll really hate me."

"He doesn't hate you," I argued reflexively.

"He does. But that's okay," he said good-naturedly as we stepped onto the elevator. As the doors closed, he moved quickly and pinned me up against the wall, his lips hovering a fraction of an inch away from mine. "As long as you love me, that's all that matters."

Arousal pumped through me from his husky words and his intense gaze, not to mention the feel of his body pressed up against mine.

"Oh, I most definitely love you," I responded.

I put my hands through his belt loops and pulled his hips tighter against me.

I could feel the hard length of him and I couldn't resist reaching between us and running my hand along the front of his slacks.

_It's been four days_, I reminded myself.

What was my problem?

Cathy.

I'd become so obsessed with worrying about how to fix her life that I was ignoring my own.

The elevator doors opened on the ground floor, but I pushed the button to take us back up.

Bobby looked at me questioningly, but I gripped him harder through his slacks, and reached up to kiss him thoroughly.

"I think we have a little more work to do," I said once we were back on the fourth floor. I took him by the hand and led him down the hall to the office.

"We do?"

"Oh yeah," I said as I unlocked the door. "Investigative work."

"Such as…"

"I need to find out exactly what caliber of weapon you're packing," I told him. I pushed him roughly against the now-closed front door and began unbuckling his belt.

"I think…that you…already know the answer…to that one," he managed to say as he expelled a deep breath.

"Well, you know that I'm an expert," I reminded him as I let his slacks fall to the floor.

Then I grabbed the waistband of his boxers and eased them down slowly before returning to touch him with both hands.

"It's always a good idea to check and recheck your weapon," I said softly as I moved my hands over him. "We wouldn't want it to go off…accidentally."

He let out a low moan and leaned his head back against the door.

"It's going to if you keep doing that," he ground out.

But I was enjoying myself too much to stop, and so was he.

I had no doubt that he'd be ready again later.

Right now, I just wanted to make him feel good.

I heard him suck in his breath as the edges of my hair grazed along the length of him when I went in for a more thorough inspection.

I was close, close enough that I knew he would feel my breath as I said the words.

"It's not an accident if I pull the trigger."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Ross POV (backtracking to Monday to catch him up)**

* * *

It didn't escape my notice that Liz sounded less than confident about my innocence.

But it would have to wait.

I couldn't get into with her, not on the phone. I'd only called because I needed to let her know what was going on. There was no way that I wanted to let her hear about it second hand.

The whole idea was ridiculous.

At the risk of sounding arrogant, if I'd wanted Kathy, I could've had her. She'd approached me twice before, once after her first husband died, and then again after Nancy left me.

When Kathy's second husband went missing, Liz and I were having trouble.

That much was true.

I was getting pressure from Moran, who had forced a promise from me that I'd stay single.

Liz knew that, but she still wanted to get married.

"_Don't let that man control our personal lives_," she'd said.

And she'd been right, but it took me a little while to realize that.

So in the mean time, I'd declined her suggestion of marriage.

To which she'd responded that if I wasn't interested, maybe she'd find someone who was.

_Because she wasn't getting any younger, and I wasn't all that great of a catch anyway. _

Yeah, she'd said that.

She was hurt, and so she'd lashed out.

And honestly, I'd deserved it.

Anyone who would stall getting married just to please their boss deserved to be on the receiving end of a low blow.

Things had gone from bad to worse when I'd overheard a detective ask her out.

Right there in the morgue.

How unprofessional.

Never mind that I'd done the exact same thing eight months before.

But when I'd heard him ask, I hadn't waited around to hear her response. I'd only gone down there to ask her to come to the police academy dinner with me.

Clearly her dance card was already full.

Of course, that was when Kathy had started her performance where she played the role of overwrought wife whose husband was missing.

And she had me with that one. For a little while anyway.

I'd been distracted by my ongoing discord with Liz.

I didn't want us to be on the outs.

I needed her.

I wanted us to be together.

And damn Moran for making me promise I wouldn't get married.

And as long as I was throwing blame around, shame on me for not having the guts to do it anyway.

Suffice it to say, my head was only partly in the game during that case.

Kathy may have made a half-hearted play for me, but only in an effort to keep my blinders on.

Eventually, with the help of Alex and Bobby, I'd seen her for who she was.

But the bottom line was that the accusation of an affair was completely unfounded.

I wanted Liz back. I certainly would've never jeopardized that possibility by sleeping with someone else.

But when our paths crossed during that case, she was jealous.

Hell, _I_ was jealous.

Because I'd heard the offer of a date, but I didn't know how she'd responded.

Had she gone out with that guy?

He wasn't one of mine. He was a homicide detective out of the 2-7.

I'd nearly driven myself crazy wondering what she'd said to him.

But instead of going to her with my hat in my hand, I'd let my pride get the better of me.

She'd said I wasn't that great of a catch. Huh.

_Well, fine then. Let her do better_, I'd thought willfully.

Of course, deep down I knew that she _could_ do better.

That knowledge only made me more sullen.

Then came the case of Bobby's brother.

That had been a pivotal moment in my relationship with Liz.

Both the low point and the high point.

But the low had come first. I'd actually insisted that she share privileged information with me. Ordered her, in fact.

What had I been thinking?

And then she did.

What had she been thinking?

We were both an emotional mess and we were letting it effect our professional lives.

I'd practically accused Bobby of being a murderer. A _murderer_. While he was mourning the loss of his brother, I'd suggested that he was the one responsible.

It was a miracle that he had ever forgiven me at all, much less that he was now a friend.

After that case ended, I'd gone to Liz. And I'd done something that I have never before done.

I begged.

I didn't rehash the previous couple of months, but instead, simply said that my life wasn't the same without her and I would do whatever it took to get her back.

In true Liz fashion, she'd said that she'd have to think about it.

Lucky for me, she only thought about it for about an hour.

Then she'd called me and asked me to come over, which I did.

Immediately.

With flowers.

And that was the high point.

I'd spent the night, and then the next morning, we got in the car and drove to Niagara Falls. It was the most romantic place to get married that I could think of and I certainly owed her some romance.

We'd said our vows, and spent the weekend in a honeymoon suite overlooking the falls.

"We don't have to tell anyone," she'd said when we drove back to the city. "It's not like I want you to lose your job, or to take heat from Moran. I just…I just wanted to be married to you. I wanted you to be willing to take the risk. And I wanted you to commit to me."

"I _am_ committed to you," I assured her. "And whether or not we tell anyone is up to you, okay?"

Of course, two weeks later, her ex-husband Marcus was murdered, and Liz had been set up for it.

Bobby and Alex had cleared her, but she'd told them about our marriage. That was about the time that they'd started seeing each other, too. And knowing the risk they were taking made mine seem inconsequential.

After all, Moran couldn't really fire me just for getting married. Of course, he'd shown his true colors soon enough anyway.

But I realized now as I sat alone in my office that Liz and I had never really talked about that period of time between her lashing out over my refusal to get married and my subsequent groveling.

I'd never asked her if she'd dated the homicide detective and she'd never really questioned me about exactly how close my relationship was to Kathy Jarrow.

So when I got the call and heard the allegations, my heart sank.

Because that was something that should've already been handled.

Telling her now, when it was being called into question, would make me look like I was covering my ass.

I should've told her _then_.

Hell, I should've jumped at the chance when she first asked me to marry her.

Instead I was a coward, bending to my boss' irrational wishes, and then I spent weeks being an ass to her.

And I was exactly that. A complete ass.

But I liked to think that maybe I'd made that up to her by now.

Our phone conversation had been a little disheartening. She spoke words of encouragement, but her voice said something else.

And I don't think that she truly suspected that I would sleep with a murder suspect.

But maybe _before_ she'd become a suspect.

She'd asked me about it once, at the time, but it was during a heated argument so my denial may not have been all that believable.

So surely she wondered about our relationship, and I couldn't let that continue.

We desperately needed to clear the air.

I called her to give her the news about the inquiry being dropped. And then I told her that I was going home, and I'd meet her there.

By the time she arrived home two hours later, I had dinner on the table.

And I'd lit candles, and bought roses.

"Valentine's Day isn't until next Sunday," she told me when she came into the kitchen.

But I could tell that she was pleased.

She's a sucker for unexpected romance.

Me, I'm just a sucker for her. And I never, ever thought I'd say that about any woman, but there was something about her that just made me want to…make her happy.

It was that simple.

"I know when Valentine's Day is," I assured her as I poured her a glass of wine.

And I did.

I'd already bought her a present.

Never let it be said that I'm not a good husband. Just because I'd stumbled going into this thing didn't mean that I hadn't regained my footing.

"So what's all of this?" she asked, and she suddenly looked slightly worried. Like maybe she was afraid I was going to give her bad news or something.

"This is an apology," I told her.

"What did you do?" she asked cautiously.

"I didn't talk to you when I should have," I said.

So we had dinner, and we talked.

About everything.

Things that we should've talked about a long time ago.

She believed me when I told her that I'd never slept with Kathy. And she told me that she'd declined the offer of a date from that detective.

And we both agreed that the whole thing with Bobby during his brother's murder investigatin was…an abhorrent byproduct of each of us bringing our personal lives into our jobs. Something that would never happen again.

And after dinner…after dinner, we went into the living room and I pulled her down onto the couch with me.

Then I took my time.

I slowly undressed her, wanting to give proper attention to every part of her, wanting to make sure that she understood exactly what she means to me. Just exactly how much I need her in my life.

I would say that I got my point across.

By the end of the week, we were once again on solid footing. No further inquiries had been sparked, Liz and I were in perfect sync, and things in the department had settled down.

I was still being actively vetted for the chief's position, but I wasn't sure if I was interested. I decided that I would ride it out and see what happened before I worried too much about making up my mind.

Friday night, Liz and I took the subway to Brooklyn. The station was near Steve-O's, which was nearly in the middle between the Gorens' and the Logans', so it was convenient, and it meant that neither of us would have to worry about driving home later.

I kissed her goodbye, and then we each went our separate ways, although I planned to walk down to the Gorens' to meet her afterwards. Walking alone at six-thirty was nowhere near the same as walking alone at whatever late hour our poker game would be over.

When I got to Mike's, I found that everyone was there except Bobby. It was a big and rowdy crowd, especially considering the addition of Bernard and Lupo.

"Where's Bobby?" I asked as I accepted the offer of a glass of scotch from Logan. I was surprised at his absence considering that he lived so close, and he and Mike worked together.

"Alex called a few minutes ago and said that he was on his way," Mike told me. "Something about a weapons check."

"Weapons check?" I repeated in confusion.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Maybe they hadn't cleaned them yet after discharging them in Denver."

He moved away to refill some of the glasses that had already been emptied.

It was going to be one of those kinds of nights.

I made my way through the group.

"Detective Bernard. What happened to date number six? Or is it seven? I lost count."

"Don't ask," he said with a shake of his head. But as usual, he had a smile on his face, and he accepted the slap on the back from Lupo with good humor.

"He struck out," Lupo mock-whispered.

"We can't all snag a good looking ME, right Cap?"

It was all I could do to keep the shit-eating grin off of my face, because he was right. I was a damn lucky man.

I left them and said hello to John Strathmore, who had apparently just gotten back from New Mexico. His face was healing nicely, and he almost looked back to normal.

"So Bobby told me a few more details about what happened in Denver," I said, fully prepared to tease him about his cross-country love affair.

"Like what?" he asked quickly, and I noticed that his eyes shifted toward Mike, who was approaching the two of us.

"Like you apparently have a thing for women with guns, huh?"

John slammed his eyes closed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he remarked, and then he opened his eyes and looked at Mike. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen like that, and I know that I probably deserve to have my ass beat. And I tried to get Bobby to do it, but he wouldn't. But if one or both of you want to do it now, well…I understand."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mike asked slowly. He glanced at me, but I was bewildered as to what had brought on John's rush of words.

"What are _you _talking about?" John asked, and then he turned his head toward me.

A small crowd had gathered now since his outburst had been louder than the rest of the conversation.

"I was talking about you and the U.S. Marshal," I clarified. "What are _you _talking about?"

"Oh. Oh, it's…um…it's…"

"Why would Bobby kick your ass?" Mike asked cautiously. "Unless you…did you hit on Alex?"

The last part was shouted, and it coincided with Bobby's arrival.

To my amazement, John nodded, and in an instant, Mike had him by the collar and had shoved him up against the wall.

"Mike."

Bobby's calm voice somehow rose above the myriad of statements of disbelief, most of which came from the Eames men.

"You were hitting on Alex?" Mike said, still in John's face. Then he cast a look over his shoulder. "And you didn't tell me?"

"It's over. It's been handled," Bobby told him.

"It doesn't look like it's been handled," Kevin said, standing up next to Mike. "He's still breathing."

It was almost funny that Kevin would stand next to Mike considering that at the last poker game, he'd been ready to fight him. But now they were both forming a unified front against a perceived wrong against their sister.

And I would never hesitate to stand next to them either, except that Bobby was asking us not to. Sean and Lewis seemed to be in the same boat with me.

Johnny Eames appeared as though he was actually weighing the benefit of Strathmore being successful in his play for his daughter. It made me want to hit _him_.

"Mike," Bobby said again. "Let him go."

Mike looked back and forth between John and Bobby and then took a step backward, releasing his grip on John's shirt.

"I didn't tell you because by the time we got back, he'd already gotten over it," Bobby said. "You can see that. He's probably logged in twenty thousand flight miles in a week just to spend time with Mary."

"Yeah, but…" Mike began, and then he shook his head. Bobby walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Trust me. It's over."

"I'm sorry," John said again. "I was…in a bad place for a little while there. You know that. I didn't mean…I didn't really think that…"

I nearly laughed out loud at the prospect of John considering for even a second that he could lure Alex away from Bobby. In fact, I couldn't hold it in.

"And here I thought that you were a smart man," I told John. "Maybe I over-estimated you."

"Yeah," Lewis said, jumping into the effort to relieve the tension. "And how is it that _Alex_ didn't hit you?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Mike said, and he seemed to be coming around a little.

I could tell that he didn't like that it had been kept a secret, but surely he could understand that maybe it was something Bobby had needed to take care of himself.

"Are we going to play cards, or what?" Johnny asked loudly.

"Mike?" John asked, waiting to make sure that all was copasetic.

"Let's play," Mike agreed. He gave John a sharp nod, and I had a feeling that they would have a more in depth discussion at some point, but not tonight.

Tonight was about shedding the stress of the week.

"So, Lewis," Mike continued, and a slow grin spread across his face. "I hear you and Erica had date number twelve. Why don't you tell Bernard what it takes to maintain a successful relationship with a woman? Because I don't think he's figured it out yet."

Laughter erupted as we all took our seats at the table, and I was impressed with Mike for his ability to move past the irritation.

He'd come along way since I'd arrived at MCS, and farther still since he'd retired and married Carolyn.

"Now come on, Logan. That hurts," Bernard joked, holding his hands over his heart. "You know you've got to let a player play. Maybe I didn't hit date number seven because I think there might be someone better on the horizon. Just because all of you are locked into one woman…"

I listened idly to the bantering conversation while I put my focus back onto Johnny.

I wasn't going to put up with him bad-mouthing Bobby tonight. I was amazed that he'd even been invited back, but at the same time, I knew that Bobby would continue to try to win the man over if for no other reason than to make Alex happy.

"So, Ross," Johnny said when he realized I was looking at him. "I heard IAB had your number this week."

"They did," I agreed with a nod. I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to lay praise on Bobby. "Of course, after five minutes with Alex and Bobby, they dropped the inquiry."

"Just like that?"

"It was unfounded to begin with," Mike spoke up.

"What was the point?" Johnny asked.

"I'm not sure," I said firmly, because I didn't want the word getting out about the potential new job.

"They're going through old cases?" Sean asked. "Is this still because of the Moran fallout?"

"Maybe," I answered. "They thought they saw something that wasn't there. Bobby and Alex set them straight."

"I'd keep an eye on them if I were you," Johnny said to me. "First rule of business. No move is made without purpose. I'd say that was just their opening gambit."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Logan POV**

* * *

I stuffed down my hostility over the news of John's thing for Alex.

Bobby was right.

It was over.

He'd handled it.

And no one was the worse for wear.

At least, I didn't think so.

I made a mental note to have a follow-up conversation with Alex tomorrow just to make sure that she hadn't withheld anything from Bobby.

I also made a mental note to have a private chat with John. I'd welcomed him into my little throw-together family. He was my responsibility. I needed to make sure that he understood the ground rules.

The chatter started up, with some good-natured teasing and then we briefly discussed Ross' situation.

I tended to agree with Johnny. We had to keep our eyes open.

After a few hands of seven-card draw, we started playing five-card stud and Bobby prompted Lewis to elaborate on his last date with Erica.

"So it's getting serious?" Bobby asked him.

"Yeah, I think so," he admitted with a smile.

"We'll have to go out together sometime. I know that Alex thinks a lot of her."

"When do you and Alex have the time for socializing?" Johnny said. "Seems to me that she doesn't have time for anything but work."

"It goes in spurts," Bobby said, keeping his cool. "Some weeks are busier than others."

"Well, when you get to a non-busy week, you owe us a dinner. I think the last time you two came over, you both had to leave early," Johnny told him while giving me a hard stare.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry about that," I responded dryly. "How inconvenient of my wife to get kidnapped."

"No offense, son," Johnny said brusquely. "Of course, I'm glad that situation turned out okay."

I wanted to like the man, I really did, but he sure knew how to be a jerk.

"I'm sure we'll be out again soon," Bobby said to him.

"Because family is important," Johnny continued.

"He knows that, Dad," Sean spoke up. "He invited us here tonight, didn't he?"

"Yeah, even though you were an ass last time," Kevin muttered.

I liked him a lot, now that we were past the whole firefighter issue. And I was glad to see that he'd come on board with Bobby.

Two down, one to go.

"I was an ass?" Johnny repeated.

"Yeah, you kind of were," I said with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Uh huh," Lewis added with a solemn nod.

It seemed that everyone was holding their collective breath, waiting to see how Johnny would respond.

"Well, he was counting cards," Johnny said at last, working hard to keep the grin from his face.

"You want to see card counting? He taught me a trick or two," Kevin said. "Go ahead. Deal. This hand is mine."

Kevin won that hand, and the next, and the mood changed considerably.

Johnny quit giving Bobby a hard time. For the moment anyway.

John had finally relaxed after being outted about his crush, and so he'd started talking about Mary.

After several more hands, Bobby got up and went into the kitchen. I followed him.

"I'm sorry," he said as soon as I entered the room. "I should've told you about John, but…"

"Hey, it's done. I'm sorry I got so worked up about it. I mean, you know how to stand up for yourself and your wife, right? You don't need me to intervene."

And I meant it.

I wasn't going to jump on him for not coming clean about it. He wasn't under any obligation to tell me every little thing that happened.

I pulled another bottle of Scotch from the cabinet, the good stuff that I usually kept around just for Bobby, and opened it up to pour him a glass.

"Did Alex have lunch with Cathy today?" I asked him.

He took a long drink of the liquor before setting down the glass and looking at me.

"No. Cathy canceled," he began. "She went back to him."

"What?" I asked loudly, and then I regained control over the volume of my voice. "She went back to him? Shit, what did Alex do?"

"We went over there, to Travis' place," he told me. And then he shook his head. "It's not good. She's in deep."

"What is she going to do?"

"I don't…"

He trailed off when we heard footsteps approaching. It was Lupo.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything," he said, stopping suddenly and changing direction.

"It's fine. Come on," I told him. I picked up the bottle and got out another glass.

"Ah, hording the good stuff, I see," he remarked with a smile.

"I was telling Mike that Cathy went back to Travis," Bobby said.

"I hate to say it, but it doesn't surprise me," he said. "Although Connie reminded me that the statute was recently extended. If you can get her to change her mind any time in the next two years, we can still pick him up."

"If he hits her again, we won't have to worry about Cathy changing her mind. Alex will kill him."

"Alex will kill who?"

It was Sean. He'd managed to slip into the kitchen while the three of us had our heads together.

He came fully into the room, and his expression was uncharacteristically serious as he approached us.

"I heard you mention Cathy. What's going on?" he asked Bobby quietly.

"Um…Sean, I don't think that it's my place to…"

"I saw Steve today," he interrupted. "He didn't look good. And now you're talking about Alex killing somebody. Tell me what happened."

"Maybe you should call Alex," Bobby said. "I don't want to get into the middle of this."

"You're part of this family, right?" Sean challenged.

He was putting Bobby in a tough spot, but at the same time, he was pulling him into the fold. He was giving him equal status.

"I'm going to…" Lupo said, and then he trailed off, instead just gesturing toward the doorway.

I followed him out.

"Tell me what you know," I heard Bobby say as I left the room.

* * *

Bobby POV

I really hadn't planned on getting into this with any of the men in Alex's family, but it didn't look like I had a choice.

Sean was a smart guy, and if he'd talked to Steve, then he already knew some of what was going on.

Maybe.

I didn't know whether he'd run into him before or after Alex had called him, but still…I needed to tell him something.

And Alex had given me the green light before I'd come here.

"_I don't know what they know,"_ she'd said. _"And I don't want it to seem like I went tattling to Daddy. But I'd also never ask you to lie about it. If someone hits you up, you can say what you know."_

"_Are you sure? Maybe this is something you need to have like a…I don't know…a family meeting or something."_

"_She already hates me,"_ she'd said on a sigh. _"If I do that, it'll only make it worse. I want to see if I can figure out how to help her without bringing everyone else into it."_

"_Okay."_

"_But there's going to be ten of you over there, and you're all going to be drinking. Half of you know what happened. Somebody might let something slip. I know that. I trust you to use your best judgment." _

My best judgment.

Huh.

I was walking through a mine field at the moment, and my only saving grace was that it was Sean who had me cornered.

He was the least volatile, and the most accepting.

Although I had to admit that Kevin was coming around, but still…of the three men in question, Sean was the best case scenario.

"I know that Cathy moved out," Sean said as he moved over to stand next to me at the counter. I poured him a glass of the scotch. He was going to need it. "And I'm pretty sure that she's living with some guy."

"That's it?"

"Steve said that she hasn't been visiting Nate. He said she hasn't even called in over a week."

I nodded and took another sip of my drink. I really didn't want to be doing this.

But then again, if I did it, it meant that Alex wouldn't have to. Maybe it would save her a little bit of unneeded stress.

"Let me say everything I need to say before you respond," I warned. I didn't need him flying off the handle.

"Okay," he agreed.

And so I told him.

About her getting hit, about Lupo arresting him, about me and Mike going to talk to him while Alex talked to Cathy, and then about today.

To his credit, he stayed quiet and listened.

"Are you sure? About the drugs?"

"No. But you know the look as well as I do. And she didn't deny it."

Sean was a beat cop. He dealt with drug users on a daily basis.

"Alex told Steve?"

"Yeah. She had to."

"I know. I'm glad that she did," he said. Then he slammed his fist down on the counter top. "Damn, what the hell is Cathy thinking?"

"I don't know," I answered.

He looked ready to explode, but he was working hard to hold it in.

"Hey! Are you boys coming or what?" Johnny shouted. "I'm dealing you in!"

"What are you going to do?" I asked Sean.

"You mean am I going to go in there and tell Dad and Kevin?"

I shrugged in answer.

"No. No, not right now. I need to think about this. And talk to Alex."

"Okay."

"And you need to promise me something."

"What?"

"You keep me in the know, okay? I know I cornered you into talking to me this time, but it shouldn't be like that. I'm your brother now, right? Just like Logan. I've got your back, and you've got mine. So if something happens with my sister…with either of my sisters…I need to know about it."

He held out his hand for me to shake on the promise, and he looked at me with an intensity that reminded me of Alex.

"Okay," I agreed as I accepted the handshake.

He gave me a sharp nod, and then tossed back the rest of his drink before leading the way into the living room.

"I thought you two girls were going to throw the hand," Johnny said when we got back to the table. "Bet's on you, Goren. Ten or fold."

"I'll call it and raise you ten," I told him before I even picked up my cards.

Mike caught my eye across the table and gave me a questioning look.

_Everything okay?_

I nodded at him, and then at Lupo who was watching me as well.

"You're going to raise without looking? What are you, stupid?" Johnny asked roughly.

"I'm feeling lucky," I replied as I looked at my cards.

And I was. Sort of.

I was feeling a little bit better about the situation.

Sean was now in on our secret. He'd fully accepted me as part of the family, and for now, he trusted me to stay on top of things.

He hadn't immediately spread the story.

And maybe that was his cop training, I don't know, but I was glad that he had the ability to keep his temper in check for the greater good.

Because Kevin's temper was not so controllable, and if he'd found out, I had no doubt that he'd be on the subway headed for Donker's place.

And while on the surface that seemed like a good idea, what would it really accomplish?

Was he going to drag Cathy out kicking and screaming?

Was he going to beat Travis into oblivion?

Tempting, yes, but ultimately counter-productive.

"That's a bold statement, considering you're going home to my sister," Kevin said with a classic Eames smirk. "I hope you're not gonna get too lucky."

And why oh why did these poker game conversations always seem to work their way around to my sex life?

"He's not supposed to have sex with his wife?" Mike asked with a grin.

"He's not supposed to _talk _about having sex with his wife," Sean amended, although he gave me a wink.

"We're not talking about sex at all. We're talking about cards," Johnny said. "Who's in?"

The betting went around the table, as did the banter.

"So, Lupes," Bernard started. "Has Connie moved back out yet? Because I think a week with you is probably about all anyone could take."

"Says the guy who can't seal the deal," Lupo retorted. Laughter erupted around the table.

"That was pretty low, Lupo," John said, although he was still chuckling.

"You're gonna take up for him?"

"Well, we single guys gotta stick together."

"Aren't you the one who's been on a plane to New Mexico every other day?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah," Sean jumped in. "Two thousand miles each way. She must be a pretty good - "

"_We_," John interrupted loudly. "Are taking it slow."

"Slow?" Kevin laughed. "What more do you have to do to show her that you're serious?"

"Hey, the boy wants to get to know the woman before hopping into bed with her. There's nothing wrong with that, is there Goren?" Johnny said.

Like I said. It always came back around to me.

"That's right, sir. Nothing wrong at all with waiting."

"Yeah, talk about slow," Mike added. "Those two waited for years."

"Hey, how'd you get that cut on your face?" Sean asked me, mercifully changing the subject.

"They had to escape an exploding house," John said dramatically.

"No shit?" Kevin asked. "So what's that from, debris?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I felt along the scratch on my face that was now mostly healed. I'd almost forgotten about it.

"You and my daughter? When was this? While you were in Denver?"

"Yes sir," I answered.

"He pushed Alex down and covered her to keep her shielded," Mike said in an obvious attempt to score me points.

"Oh, I bet she loved that," Sean laughed.

"She…had a few words to say about it," I admitted with a grin.

"You are a brave man, Goren," Lupo said. "I heard she knocked Ross out without even trying. I can just imagine what she'd do if she put some effort into it."

"Thank you, Detective," Ross said wryly.

"Oh, sorry, Cap. I just figured everyone here already knew about that."

"I didn't," John said.

"I didn't either," Johnny admitted. But he was smiling. "That's my girl, though. I taught her how to fight."

During this whole exchange, the betting had gone around and around the table until there was only me and Johnny left, along with a pile of money in the pot.

"What the hell do you got, Goren?" he asked me.

I took a long tug off of my cigar and then tossed four of my cards onto the table, keeping the fifth one face down between my fingers.

"Dead Man's Hand," Johnny said with a grin. "I've got you. Ace-high flush."

"Uh uh," I said as I flipped over the fifth card.

It was another ace.

"Full house," I told him.

Shouts and laughter exploded around the table as I reached for the stack of bills that had accumulated.

And maybe I was provoking him a little, by insisting on winning. I could've thrown the hand.

I could've let him look like the big shot.

But damn if I was going to throw in the towel just to keep from injuring his delicate ego.

He caught my eye across the table as I stacked my winnings, and I held his gaze, not willing to back down from him.

"So what is it that you and my daughter did out in Denver? Aside from nearly getting blown up, I mean."

"Oh not much," Mike jumped in. "They just took down a drug lord and about a dozen runners who were spreading pounds of cocaine to cities across the country."

"And exposed a corrupt cop," John added.

"And another dirty cop who was gunning for mayor," Lupo said.

"Oh, is that all?" Sean said with a grin. "Jeez, and you two act like you're so busy."

"What are you going to do with your winnings, Goren? Are you going to buy my daughter a Valentine's present?" Johnny asked me, shifting gears yet again.

This guy was relentless. It was like he wanted to dislike me just on principle, but he was having trouble finding ammunition to back it up.

"No," I said as I shuffled the deck.

"No? Joe would've. He was good about stuff like that."

_And here we go again…_

"Dad, you're full of crap," Kevin said. "First of all, Joe stunk at cards and he always lost his shirt. Besides that, he never bought Alex things."

"Yeah, except that taser gun he bought her for their anniversary one year," Sean said on a laugh. "Remember that? She was so pissed. I thought she was going to use it on him."

"He bought her a taser gun for their anniversary?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, she actually told me about that one," Ross said. Then he looked at Johnny and took a puff on his cigar. "Right before she mentioned how sometimes it's nice to be more than just your job."

_Nice one, Captain._

"I already bought her a present," I told Johnny, ending the speculation altogether. "It's only two days away. Haven't you already bought your wife something?"

"I…well, no. Not yet."

I smirked and began to deal the next hand.

"Then maybe you'd better win a hand or two. You might want to start counting cards."

TBC...

Monday. Or maybe one more today. It depends on how inspired I am by reviews :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Alex POV**

* * *

My desire to properly thank Bobby before he headed off to his poker game had made us late.

And I really hated to be late.

But this had been worth it.

I never got tired of hearing him say my name when he was in that kind of euphoric state.

But since we were running behind, I dropped him off at Mike's on the way home from the office, and then I drove to our place.

I knew that Carolyn and Liz would be there waiting. Carolyn had a key and the code for the alarm, so I wasn't too concerned.

I knew that they'd make themselves comfortable.

"Working late, huh?" Liz asked me when I entered my apartment.

She and Carolyn were in the kitchen with a bottle of Patron between them on the counter. Tequila after the week I'd had could either be a really good idea or a really bad one.

"Yeah," I said as I shed my jacket. "What did I miss?"

"You're two shots behind," Liz said as she filled up a shot glass. "You've got some catching up to do."

I put my weapon on the side table along with my keys and then I joined them at the island counter.

"What were you working on that held you up?" Carolyn asked me. "A break with the kidnapping cold case?"

"Oh no, it was…um…the um…"

And as soon as I started stammering, I gave up.

Carolyn knew me well enough to know when I was lying.

Besides, I'd already told Mike that we were doing a weapons check, which I'd thought was funny at the time, but wouldn't really hold up under any kind of scrutiny.

"Never mind," she told me with a grin. Then she pushed the shot glass towards me and added, "Catch up."

"I haven't eaten yet," I said, but I still picked up the glass and tossed back the liquid. It burned a path all the way down my throat.

"We just called for a pizza," Liz said. "It should be here in a few minutes."

Carolyn filled the glass again and gave me an encouraging nod.

"How did the profile go?" I asked her.

I drained the second shot, once again ignoring the lime slices that were on a plate in front of me. I didn't need anything to mask the taste.

"I think we gave them something solid to go on," she answered. "I let Mike take the lead on it. I don't want to be the only one the Bureau looks to. Next time he can go it alone, and then after that, you and Bobby can take a turn. That way we're all equally indispensable."

"Sounds good to me," I agreed.

We talked some more about work while another round of shots was poured.

And for me, that meant decision time, because if I kept drinking shots, it was pretty much going to be a fact that I was going to get drunk, and then tomorrow I'd have to deal with the hangover.

Or I could switch to beer or wine now and probably be fine.

But as I held the mental debate, I felt a _what the hell_ attitude roll through me.

I could manage a hangover. It certainly wouldn't be my first one.

So I made short work of the third shot, and poured a fourth by the time the pizza arrived.

An hour later, the pizza was gone and Carolyn was breaking the seal on the second bottle of Patron. I wouldn't say that we were sloppy drunk yet, but we'd all pretty much lost our mental censors.

And we were most definitely going to feel miserable in the morning, but for now we were having too much fun.

"You were actually still out in the hallway of the hotel? Not inside of your room?" Liz asked Carolyn.

"Yeah," Carolyn replied with a shrug. "You've never done it in a public place before?"

I wasn't sure that I wanted to know the answer to this one.

It was one thing to talk about sex with Carolyn. It felt different discussing it with Liz.

And I'm not entirely sure why.

I mean, talking about it in the abstract was fine, but if she started telling stories, and then I was struck with a mental image of Ross _in_ said stories…I don't know. I might not be able to sleep at night.

I struggled to keep from laughing out loud at my own thoughts. I certainly didn't want to have to explain it to Liz.

"No," she answered, saving me from nightmares.

"Oh, you've got to try it," Carolyn told her with a dramatic wave of her hand. Then she glanced over at me and grinned. "Right, Alex?"

"You, too?" Liz asked me.

"Once or twice," I admitted.

"Do tell," Liz encouraged while Carolyn scoffed at my underestimation. I drank another shot, and then plowed ahead.

"Well, on the roof," I told them.

"Of this building?"

"Yep. Last week."

"That's why you weren't in your apartment when Mike and I got here," Carolyn said with a nod.

"Uh huh."

"See?" Carolyn said to Liz. "Exhibitionism can save your life."

"I'm starting to see that," she agreed. "Where else?"

"Well, in St. Thomas," I told them. "On our honeymoon."

"I never did see pictures," Liz commented.

"We didn't take pictures!"

"Not of…_that_. I mean of the island!"

"Oh," I said, unable to stop the laughter.

"Of course, I have seen pictures of _that_," Liz added.

"Don't remind me," Carolyn moaned, putting her hands over her face.

I was amazed that she was embarrassed, especially considering where she'd just vacationed. But I guess it was different being around total strangers, people whom you never expected to see again.

"Sorry," Liz said, completely unrepentant. "It's not like I still have copies of them or anything. It was just that one time."

"Oh, there was that time in the parking garage," Carolyn said, apparently having gotten over her embarrassment enough to throw me to the wolves.

"The one here?" Liz asked me.

"No, 1PP!" Carolyn corrected. "And your husband almost busted them."

"When was this? Before or after you were married?"

"Before," I admitted, chucking Carolyn with my elbow. I gave her a mock-glare and added, "And I am not telling _you_ anything any more."

"Oh come on, Alex. It was funny! Besides, you aren't the one who told me. Bobby did, remember?"

"Danny almost caught you guys?"

"It was late, and we didn't expect anyone to be down there, and Bobby had figured out a spot where the security cameras couldn't see, so…"

"But then Ross showed up. He called Bobby on his cell and when his phone started ringing, it echoed throughout the garage…"

"And he didn't know what he was interrupting? Just when I think he's smart," Liz said on a sigh.

"I don't know how he didn't figure it out. I think maybe he just didn't want to know," I said.

"What did you do?"

"Bobby got him to leave," I said with a shrug.

"And…" Carolyn prompted.

"And then we finished," I confessed.

That got the laughter started again, and another round was poured. I needed it like I needed a hole in my head, but I drank the shot anyway.

"How important do you think sex is to a relationship?" I mused, my words only slightly slurred. I couldn't help myself. I was back to thinking about Cathy.

"Why, is Bobby having trouble?" Liz teased.

"No!" I said quickly. "God no. No. Just…no."

"We get it," Carolyn chuckled.

"No, I was thinking about Cathy," I admitted. "She said that she and Steve hadn't…well, they hadn't been close lately, and that was part of the reason why she left him."

"Setting aside her poor choice of rebound guy," Liz said. "I guess I can understand that."

"Really? You'd leave Ross if he couldn't get it up?"

Carolyn's bluntness was surely a result of the excessive alcohol, but Liz didn't skip a beat. Me, I was still stuck on the unfortunate mental image that went along with her crude statement.

"I didn't mean that. Alex said they weren't close," Liz explained. "Was Cathy just talking about sex, or was she talking about intimacy?"

"I'm not sure. She wasn't specific. I mean, she mentioned that it had been awhile, but I don't know details, or how he acted around her otherwise."

Our mood shifted to one of a more serious nature. And suddenly, I wanted to talk about my reason for carrying Nate.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I couldn't let it go.

Because, and maybe this sounds strange, but as much as I _didn't_ want to talk about it, I _wanted_ to talk about it more.

"You remember what you asked me the other day," I began, looking at Carolyn. I was getting nervous just bringing it up.

Even well on her way to drunk, Carolyn's mind is a steel trap. She immediately knew what I was talking about.

"Of course," she said. She kept her eyes on mine and gave me an understanding nod. "But we don't have to talk about it. You know that."

"Talk about what?" Liz asked.

"Carolyn asked me why I did the surrogacy for Cathy."

"I've often wondered about that myself," she confessed.

"I only asked because it seems that your relationship with Cathy is strained. You don't really see her that often, even before she left Steve. I wasn't sure if things were always like that, or if it had started since Nate was born, or…or what," she finished vaguely. "But it's not my business. It's not anyone's business but yours, so please don't feel any kind of pressure to talk about it."

"I…was…I think that…I think I need another drink," I said at last.

Liquid courage.

Surely the extensive tequila I'd had to drink so far would be enough to get me through the story.

But it was more the aftermath that worried me.

What would they think? What would they say?

I drank another shot – the number of which I'd lost count by now – and I reminded myself that sharing this was a good thing.

"I got pregnant the summer before I went to college," I said, jumping right in with both feet. Making such a bold opening statement would preclude me from chickening out.

I waited for the shocked gasps and horrified expressions, but none came. I pushed forward.

"I didn't love the guy. In fact, I wasn't even still dating him by the time I found out. There was no way that I could tell my parents. I mean, maybe they would've been supportive, I don't know. I couldn't risk it."

"Risk what?" Carolyn asked. "The idea that you'd let them down?"

"That they might want me to keep it. And…I couldn't. At the time, it wasn't even about wanting kids or not wanting kids. It was that I had my whole life ahead of me, and it would've been drastically changed if I'd gone through with it. So…I didn't."

Carolyn refilled my glass again and pushed it toward me.

It was actually easier to say the words than I'd expected. And maybe it was because they were both so compassionate about it, I don't know. But it made the rest of the story come out a lot faster.

"So, I…never told a soul, not even Cathy. I mean, Bobby knows now, but then, it was just me. I got a job over the summer – waitressing - so that I could squirrel away my tip money, and after another month, I was able to afford to…do what I had to do."

"You went by yourself?" Liz asked me.

"I did," I said with a nod.

And that had been hard. _Very_ hard.

But I'd gotten through it, and then started college.

"So when Cathy asked you…"

"She told me about the problems they were having. The problem that _she_ was having, and she asked for my help. I guess I felt like maybe…I don't know…it was an opportunity to bring a child into the world."

They were both quiet for a minute and I waited for the verbal onslaught. And even though I was a little nervous about their response, I did feel better after talking about it.

"People's lives are filled with choices. Some are easy and some aren't," Liz said. "Your reasons for not having a baby when you were eighteen are your own. The same as your reasons for having Cathy's for her. I mean, we've all had to do it. Maybe not that exact choice, but something equally significant. It's these kinds of choices that make us who we are. I hope you don't feel bad about your decisions."

"No," I said after a minute. "No because any one thing can change everything else. I wouldn't want to do that."

"Have you thought about telling her?" Carolyn asked me. She put her hand over mine where it rested on the counter.

"Cathy? No."

"You should," she suggested. "You said yourself, she has the image that you were the perfect daughter, and she's made it out that you're the bad guy in all of this. Maybe if you just told her about it, showed her that you're _human_, it might change her perspective."

"Yeah, it is pretty tough for us mere mortals sometimes," Liz added.

"What's tough?" I said, smiling at her random comment.

"Being around you. Wonder Woman," she said as she put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed me to her. "I can imagine that you were a tough act to follow."

"Please," Carolyn said, looking pointedly at just Liz. "You don't have to work with her. She solves all of the cases, catches all of the bad guys…"

"Oh yeah. I do that all by myself," I retorted.

Of course, I knew what they were trying to do and I loved them for it.

"We need another drink," Carolyn stated, grabbing the bottle with purpose.

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"Are you quitting on me?" she replied with a grin.

"Alex Goren never stops," I said firmly, slamming my glass down onto the counter.

"Yeah, that's what your neighbors say," Carolyn joked. "Oh no wait, that's _Bobby_ that's not supposed to stop."

"Her neighbors?" Liz asked. I shook my head and started chuckling, knowing exactly where Carolyn was taking this conversation.

"Alex likes to be a little loud," Carolyn explained in a mock-whisper.

"What?" Liz asked, still apparently confused, although I guess copious amounts of Patron can do that to even the smartest of brains.

"Oh, God, Bobby, don't stop!" Carolyn shouted in an attempt to imitate me.

Liz and I both roared with laughter while she continued her impersonation.

"Yeah, well, you have sex with Bobby and see how quiet you can be," I said when she'd finished. At her raised eyebrow, I realized what I'd said. "No, wait…that didn't come out right."

We were laughing uncontrollably by this point, and I decided that the hangover would definitely be worth it.

"So," Carolyn said as she managed to get a hold of herself. "You owe me an embarrassing Bobby story."

"Yes I do," I agreed.

"What was the Mike story?" Liz asked.

"The thing in Rio," she explained.

"Oh. Yeah, that was good. I wonder if that hotel keeps their security footage?"

"I bet they kept the tape from that day," I said.

"Alex…you're stalling."

"I'm…oh, what the hell. This is actually embarrassing for both of us. Maybe just me even, because he'd probably be bragging about it now if he could."

"What is it?"

"When we checked out of the hotel in St. Thomas," I began. I paused and shook my head.

I couldn't believe I was going to tell them this. Bobby had wanted to tell people, and I'd made him promise not to. He'd probably be glad to get the green light now.

"And?"

"There were a lot of employees in the lobby. When we checked out, they announced that we were the Gorens. I didn't know what was going on, why they would announce something like that. Anyway, it got everyone's attention and so then the clerk added that we were the ones in room three-twenty."

"And?" Liz asked again when I paused to put my face in my hands.

"We got a round of applause."

"For…" Carolyn encouraged, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "The guys were all slapping Bobby on the back and shaking his hand…apparently we made _quite_ the impression."

"Can we go back to the part where you suggested that one of us try having sex with Bobby?" Liz asked. I nearly choked on my drink, but managed to get it down.

"No," I said firmly. "But I think I'm drunk enough now. You can tell me about Monday night."

Monday had been her getting-it-all-out-in-the-open session with Ross that had gone really, _really_ well.

"Just Monday night?" she asked with a grin. "You don't want to hear about Tuesday? Or Wednesday? Or earlier tonight?"

"Okay, you know what? I was wrong. I'm not drunk enough."

"Then have another drink," Carolyn said as she looked through my cabinet for another bottle. I didn't have Patron, but I did have Jose Cuervo, so she pulled that out. "I want to hear this."

"Yeah, well, you didn't work for the man," I reminded her. I didn't want to tell Liz that I was also hoping to avoid the visual.

"I know," she said with a drunken wave of her hand. "He might not compare to Bobby or Mike in the looks department, but…"

"I didn't say that," I interrupted.

"No, it's okay. What he lacks in looks, he makes up for in effort. The things that man can do…"

"Hang on, hang on, hang on," Carolyn murmured as she struggled with the cap on the Cuervo. "I think I want to sit down for this."

She finally got the bottle open and she brought it over to the counter and then she sat down on the stool next to me. She filled all three glasses, and then picked one up.

"Okay, I'm ready. Go ahead."

"Alex?" Liz questioned.

"Oh, what the hell," I said, tossing back the liquor. "Let's hear it."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Logan POV**

* * *

I walked the ten blocks to Bobby's place alongside Ross and Bobby.

It was after two in the morning, and I wasn't about to have Carolyn walking home alone.

Ross and Liz were going to walk halfway back with us and then catch the subway home. Everyone else had cleared out of my house about half an hour ago. Rocco had played designated driver for all of them except Lupo.

Connie had picked him up at just a little after midnight.

Of course, we'd had to give him hell about that, but he didn't look the least bit bothered by it.

"Johnny is coming around," Ross said as we each lit up another cigar. I wasn't usually a smoker, but cigars on poker night were a must.

"It's taking him long enough," I muttered. I still didn't get why the guy had to be so obstinate about it. Why couldn't he see that Alex was happy?

"He's just resisting change," Bobby said.

"You're giving him too much credit," Ross replied. "Joe's been dead a long time. There's no reason why he should keep trying to compare the two of you."

"Hey, I guess Sean took the news about Cathy okay, huh?" I asked suddenly. I'd almost forgotten about that whole issue.

"Yeah. He's going to come over tomorrow to talk to Alex."

"Better make it late in the day," I said with a grin. "Carolyn took a couple of bottles of Patron with her."

And obviously I didn't know for a fact that the women would finish off both bottles.

But it was a pretty safe bet.

I knew that Alex had had a bitch of a week, and Liz's week had started off fairly rocky, too.

And Carolyn…well, she just really liked tequila.

And I liked what tequila did to Carolyn, so it was a win-win for me.

"You should invite Johnny over to your place," Ross told Bobby as we got in the elevator.

"For what?"

"Dinner. Don't go to his house next. Have them over here."

"Classic power move," I said, nodding my head in agreement. "It'll give you home field advantage."

"I'm not trying to beat him."

"You should be," I argued. "He's trying to beat you."

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and Bobby was quiet as we walked down the hall to his apartment. I knew that it really bugged him how Johnny treated him, and I didn't blame him at all.

I mean, what more was he supposed to do?

We got to the door and Bobby pulled out his keys, but then paused at the eruption of laughter that could be heard through the closed door.

"They are _hammered_," I said with amusement.

"Well, if she brought two bottles," Bobby said.

"I didn't really think that they'd drink all of it."

Bobby stuck his key in the lock, and started to turn the knob, but then he hesitated when the laughter died down.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" I asked him.

"No."

"But you were trying," Ross accused lightly.

"Well, aren't you curious?"

"Carolyn will tell me later," I said confidently.

"No she won't. She'll tell you one or two watered down versions of what they talked about," Bobby replied. "That's all."

He stood still for another minute, but even though we could hear their voices, we couldn't make out the words, so he opened up the door.

The three women were standing – and I use that term loosely – in the kitchen.

Not two, but _three _empty bottles of tequila were on the island counter.

The talking immediately stopped upon our entry and the three of them looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies," I said as they attempted to get themselves under control.

"Are you going to share the joke?" Ross asked. He looked worried, as though he thought they were laughing at him.

"It's nothing," Alex said with an ungraceful wave of her hand. "Girl stuff."

Yeah, I was _definitely_ going to make Carolyn tell me later. I knew a few techniques to get her to talk. I also knew that much of their discussions centered on sex, and that made it all that much more important for me to confirm that they weren't laughing about _me_.

"You guys are done early," Carolyn said, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried to fight a smile.

"It's after two," I told her.

"How'd it go?" Alex asked, looking at Bobby.

"He could barely walk home," Ross said.

"I'm not drunk," Bobby argued.

"The weight of the money in your wallet," Ross clarified.

"You won again?" Alex asked him as she walked over to him. He shrugged and put his arm around her. "Dad was goading you?"

"He was fine," Bobby deflected.

"He was his usual self," I corrected. "But Bobby held his own."

Carolyn grabbed the three empty bottles from the counter and put them in the trash and then came over to me.

"You guys killed three bottles?" I asked her with a grin. She slipped her arms around my waist and hugged me tightly.

"Uh huh," she murmured against my chest.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Uh huh."

"Do I need to get us a cab, or can you walk?" I teased.

"I can walk just fine," she told me, taking a step back from me. "Let's go."

"So, Alex, was the offer for _tonight_, or…" Liz said, and then the three woman erupted into laughter again.

I couldn't decide if they were that plastered or if they'd just had that much fun.

Whichever the case, I was glad to see that the evening had been relaxing for them.

"Offer?" Bobby asked.

"Not tonight," Alex said firmly to Liz, but she was smiling and shaking her head when she said it.

"What offer?" Ross asked Liz as he helped her into her coat.

"Nothing," she replied coyly.

I raised an eyebrow at Carolyn and she gave me a wink.

Yeah, she'd tell me.

We said goodbye to the Gorens and the four of us left the apartment and headed back up the street. As soon as Ross and Liz left us to get on the subway, I hit her up.

"What offer?" I asked her.

"Uh uh. I'm not telling," she said.

She held my hand in hers as we walked down the street. She wouldn't have been able to pass a sobriety test if her life depended on it, but I had no doubt that any mugger who came after us would be in serious trouble.

"Sure you are," I encouraged. "You know you want to."

"I want to tell you? No."

"Why not?"

"Because it was girl talk. I've told you before. I don't share that."

"Yeah, you _say_ that."

"You want to know what we talked about?"

"Yeah."

"We talked about sex. I told them how incredible and insatiable you are, and so they all said that they wanted a turn with you. Separately or together, they didn't care which."

"Really?"

"No," she said on a laugh. She swayed a little bit toward the street, so I tugged her hand and brought her up next to me. She slid her hand under my jacket and grabbed onto my belt loop. "Why, are you interested?"

"No."

"No? Really? Two women aside from your wife want to sleep with you and you're not interested?"

"See, my wife is this really hot number who already gives me more than I can handle."

"Oh," she said, moving her hand from my belt loop down to my butt. "Good answer."

We walked another block or so in quiet, and then I had to ask.

"So you _didn't_ tell them how incredible and insatiable I am?"

"Well…yeah," she admitted. "I did say that. I mean, they asked and I didn't want to lie. Although…"

"Although what?"

"I might need updated evidence to back that up. I mean, it has been two days," she teased. "Maybe you're not quite so incredible any more."

"Huh," I mused as we climbed the front steps. "Or maybe I'm even better."

"Am I going to find out?" she asked as we entered the house. "Because you know how I hate unanswered questions."

She'd barely finished her sentence when I started kissing her. I kept advancing, backing her up into the kitchen until the table was at her back.

"Do you have an educated guess?" I asked in a low tone as I pulled her jacket off of her.

"Guess?"

"As to the verdict. Not so good…better…"

"Better," she murmured against my lips. "Always better."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

"So, Dad was an ass again?" Alex asked me once the others had gone.

She stepped away from me to start cleaning up the slight mess from the evening.

"Uh uh," I replied, following her over to the counter. "We're not talking about your dad. We're talking about the offer."

"What offer?" she asked innocently.

"That's what I'd like to know. What was Liz talking about?"

"Oh, she was just…she was…she's…"

"Alex," I said firmly as I put my hands on the counter, one on either side of her so that I was trapping her in place.

"Don't pull the bossy thing with me," she replied, although she relaxed against the counter and made no effort to escape. "It doesn't always work."

"Yes it does."

I stepped even closer to her to further prove my point.

"You're not so tough," she said. She put her hands on my waist and shook her head obstinately. "And I don't have to tell you anything."

"What was the offer?" I asked again.

I leaned down and kissed her neck, alternating with my teeth and tongue in the way that I know drives her crazy.

"It was nothing. I just…she…" She trailed off and let out a sigh, tilting her head to one side to give me better access.

"You got embarrassed when she asked," I stated as I moved her hair out of the way and continued my assault.

She exhaled heavily and pulled my hips closer to her.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"No."

"She…I…it's just…"

It had to be really good, because I couldn't remember the last time that I'd seen Alex quite so tongue-tied.

"Tell me," I whispered into her ear. A shudder went through her and her grip tightened on me again, so then I stopped what I was doing and met her gaze.

"They were making fun of me for being loud," she said at last. "And I was trying to defend myself, and I…misspoke."

"By saying…"

"I said that they should try having sex with you and see how quiet they could be."

"You were offering up my services?" I asked in amusement.

"No! No, that wasn't what I meant…anyway, then later I was telling them about the reaction we got when we checked out of the hotel in St. Thomas, and Liz said that since I'd offered you to them…"

"Liz, huh?" I mused as I ran my hand over my face thoughtfully. "Well, tonight would've been okay."

"Bobby!"

"Hey, you're the one who wants to stud me out. Who am I to argue?"

She shoved on my chest and I took a step back.

"I didn't mean it like that," she insisted as she kept pushing me. She backed me into the opposite counter and then grabbed onto the front of my shirt. "And you'd better wipe that grin off of your face."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about Liz…" I teased.

I couldn't help myself.

To think that Alex had been here talking about my impressive sexual prowess, well…it was certainly a nice ego boost.

And for her to be so flustered about it made it impossible for me to resist teasing her.

Surely she had to know that I had no interest in anyone but her.

Not remotely, not hypothetically, not anything.

But my words had shocked her speechless. I guess I forgot that the alcohol had probably made her less likely to recognize my wit.

"I'm kidding," I assured her as I moved my hands up to her face. I ran my thumb along her cheek until she brought her eyes to mine. "You know that."

"I…yeah, I guess," she replied.

"You guess?" I asked.

I turned us around so that once again she had her back to the counter, and then I picked her up so that she was sitting on it.

I moved in between her legs and brought my hands around to her backside, pulling her firmly up against me.

"Let me take care of any lingering doubts," I told her as I brought my lips down to hers. I kissed her hard, running one hand up her back and into her hair. She sighed and shifted against me, bringing her legs up and around my waist.

The change in position gave me a new sense of urgency and I began tugging at her shirt.

"Take this off," I growled when the material was uncooperative.

She quickly complied and I attacked the exposed area, once again using my teeth and my tongue in an effort to work her into a frenzy.

It worked. She began trying to undo my belt buckle but her dexterity was hampered by the excessive alcohol.

She muttered a string of curses, and then skipped the belt altogether and just went for the zipper.

The feel of her hand on me caused me to stop moving for just a minute.

I was grateful for our earlier activity. Otherwise I would've been done by now.

But as it was, I was probably good for a little while longer, so I helped things along by undoing my belt and dropping my pants.

She captured my lips with hers and once again ran her hand over me, her light touch in direct contradiction to the fervent kiss.

The woman drove me crazy.

"You're not talking," she said as she released my mouth and started unbuttoning my shirt.

"My mouth was busy doing other things," I countered as I worked to get her pants off of her. Not an easy feat while she was sitting on the counter top, but I was determined and resourceful. It didn't take me long.

"So which is it?" I asked her as tossed her pants onto the floor behind me.

"Which is what?" she asked in a breathy voice that made me even harder.

I ran my fingers lightly along her thighs, starting at her knees and moving upward in a teasing, spiraling pattern.

"Do you want me to talk or…"

Then I leaned down and kissed each knee before slowly running my tongue along the established path.

She let out a long, contented sigh and let her eyes fall closed before she replied.

"Don't say a word."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Alex POV**

* * *

An interesting fact about me.

I always underestimate the punch of the hangover.

And I mean always.

So last night, when I was debating whether or not the tequila was a good idea, I should've remembered _this_ moment.

The one where I wake up and it's only six o'clock in the morning and my skin is hot and my mouth is dry and a percussion section has taken up residence in my head. All I wanted to do was drink a gallon of water and swallow a bottle of aspirin and then go back to sleep until everything felt better.

But just the thought of putting something on my stomach made it churn in protest, and my body was too tired and achy to comply with my brain's command to move.

So instead, I just laid there.

Miserable.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Oh yeah, that it would be fun.

And honestly, it _had_ been fun.

And it would probably seem like it had been a lot _more_ fun once I recovered from that Mexican dog who'd bitten me in the ass.

The mere thought of tequila made me groan, and I finally mustered up enough strength to throw the covers off of me. It felt like it was a hundred degrees in our bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked as he rolled over and ran his hand over my stomach.

"No," I mumbled.

"You want me to get you some water?"

"No. Yes. Maybe."

He chuckled and pressed a kiss against my shoulder before getting out of bed.

"I'll bring you some. You can decide later."

"Okay. And bring some crackers. And a banana."

"And coffee?"

"Yeah, coffee. And aspirin."

He flashed me a smile and headed for the kitchen while I enjoyed the view of his retreating backside.

Then I tested my recall of last night's events.

Me, admitting to him that I'd accidentally offered him to my friends and then him, acting like he was truly interested.

I was going to have to get him back for that.

"Coffee's brewing," he told me when he came back. He put a bottle of water on the night stand along with the other requested items and then he sat down on the edge of the bed.

I looked up at him and furrowed my brow.

"Did we have sex last night?" I asked him.

"Did we…" he repeated in confusion. "Yeah. Yeah, you don't remember?"

"Maybe," I said casually. "I guess it was pretty quick though, huh? I mean, I must not have…"

"You did," he insisted quickly. "Twice."

"Are you sure?" I asked, but then I broke into a smile. "Oh, yeah. Maybe I do remember."

I'd wanted to tease him, but I couldn't leave him on the hook for long. I didn't want to risk any serious hits to his self-esteem.

He let out a relieved chuckle and shook his head.

"You had me for a second there," he admitted.

"Yeah, well you had me last night, talking about Liz."

"You started that," he reminded me. He ran his hand along my cheek and then pushed the hair away from my face. He moved his finger down my arm until he reached my hand and then he clasped his fingers in mine.

"And you know better," he added.

"I guess I do," I agreed. My head was still thundering, but for some reason, it was easier to deal with when he was looking at me like he was at the moment. "But I did miss out on something last night."

"What's that?"

"I didn't properly appreciate the taste of cigars and scotch. I think the tequila must have numbed my taste buds."

"You like that, huh?"

"I do," I said. "You don't have to wait for poker night to smoke another one."

The coffee pot beeped indicating that it was finished, so he gave me a quick kiss and then left to fix our cups.

My eyelids were heavy and my stomach still felt nauseous, so while I waited for him, I curled onto my side and closed my eyes.

The next time I opened my eyes it was ten o'clock.

My mouth was still dry, but my head was pounding less. My skin had cooled considerably and my stomach seemed to be done with its revolt.

Bobby's arm rested comfortably over my hip, and the rest of him was plastered up against my back side.

I glanced at the night stand and saw two full cups of coffee sitting there.

_Good_, I thought. Once upon a time, he would've never gotten back into the bed, but this morning, he must've come back to find me asleep and so he'd bypassed the coffee and climbed back under the covers.

I eased out from under his arm and sat up on the edge of the bed. My head felt fuzzy, but I ignored it and grabbed the bottle of water. I downed it all, along with the three aspirin that were sitting next to it, and then turned to look at Bobby. He was breathing heavily, still asleep.

I could use a few more hours myself considering how late we'd been up.

But, I had to meet up with Sean at some point today.

And I had to get some groceries.

We had leads to follow on the custodial kidnapping.

And I had to go shopping because I hadn't yet bought Bobby a present for Valentine's Day.

"Alex?" he questioned sleepily when his hand reached for me but only encountered the sheets.

His hair was rumpled, and his face was perfectly stubbled, and he looked so warm and inviting…

All of those other things could wait.

"Sshh," I whispered as I once again stretched out next to him. "Go back to sleep."

We didn't move again for two more hours.

And maybe this was the good part about a hangover. The part that my subconscious had been considering last night when I'd made my decision to get drunk.

Because once the headache was gone, along with all of those other annoying maladies that had been plaguing me when I first awoke at six, I was left with the warm, comfortable feeling of spending the morning in bed with Bobby.

He'd probably had more to drink last night than I'd realized at the time, or else he would've been up by now, wandering around the apartment, trying to stay busy.

But he wasn't.

He was next to me, on his stomach, with his head on my chest. I brought my hands up to his head and began running my fingers through his hair. He hummed a contented sound and began stroking his hand along my side. It tickled a little, so I shifted to move his point of focus, but he went right back to the sensitive spot.

"Feeling better?" he asked me, his whiskers scratching across my skin.

"Yeah," I answered, before I realized the intent behind his question.

"Good," he replied.

He then began tickling me in earnest, scooting up onto his knees and then straddling me, trapping my arms beneath his legs.

"Bobby!" I yelled as the laughter rolled out of me. "Stop!"

"Make me," he challenged with a broad grin.

And oh, did I ever love this playful side of him.

I'd guessed long ago that it existed, but still…it had been such a wonderful surprise to learn just how much he enjoyed being mischievous.

But that didn't mean I was going to let him get away with the unprovoked attack.

"Stop!" I shouted again amidst my uncontrollable laughter.

"I thought you were supposed to be yelling _don't stop_," he teased as he continued mercilessly. "Come on, Alex. You're going to ruin my reputation with the neighbors."

"Please," I managed to say.

"You give up?"

"Yes!"

He stilled his fingers and I sucked in a deep breath, but then he leaned down and kissed me senseless.

"I love hearing you laugh," he said after pulling back. "I couldn't help myself."

He released my arms from beneath his legs, and I put my hands behind his head, pulling him closer to me again.

"Bobby," I whispered, my lips a fraction of an inch from his.

"Mm hmm?"

"I never give up," I stated. I caught my ankle around his leg as I shoved hard on his shoulder, throwing him off of me and onto the bed beside me, and then I pounced. "You should know better than to think I'd cave so easily."

Now I had his arms pinned, and I was the one straddling him. But he was still grinning.

"You act like this is a hardship for me," he told me. "Maybe this is how I intended for us to end up all along."

"You did not," I disputed.

"No," he admitted. "But I'm not complaining."

He made no move to escape, but I released his arms because I wanted his hands on me.

Last night had been intense and gratifying, but right now was about something else. The love and emotion that flooded me at the sight of his contented, quiet confidence was nearly overwhelming.

He sensed my change of mood instantly, and he immediately wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him.

"This was nice," he rumbled. "Staying in bed this morning. I could get used to it."

"Me, too," I agreed. "We don't have to get up any time soon, do we?"

"I wasn't planning on it," he replied, and as he said the words he ran his hands down my back and then gripped my hips, shifting me until I felt his hardness pressed up against me.

"You can see why I was bragging about you," I said softly as I settled down fully onto him. "Yesterday evening, again last night, and now…"

"Well, I've been properly motivated," he said, guiding me into a slow, leisurely rhythm. "Besides, we haven't made love since Monday."

Only a man like Bobby would distinguish the difference.

We enjoyed each other thoroughly for the next hour and then we finally made our way into the shower.

The rest of the day was spent doing mundane chores and errands, but considering how busy we normally were, it was a nice change of pace.

I put off meeting with Sean until Monday, mostly because I'd slept through his time off. He was working nights, and even though he'd had Friday night off, he had to go in Saturday night.

"_I'm off again Monday,"_ he'd told me when I called him. _"We'll have dinner, okay?"_

So I blocked out the drama of my family, and we tabled the kidnapping cold case.

Sunday was a virtual repeat of Saturday, minus the hangover, and by the time Monday rolled around, I felt like a new woman.

Of course, that alone should've made me suspicious.

My phone rang as we headed for the office Monday morning. Since I was driving, Bobby pulled my phone from my belt.

"It's Liz," he told me.

"Go ahead."

I'd considered teasing him, but the idea that she was calling me at seven-thirty on Monday morning gave me a feeling of portent.

He answered and put her on speaker.

"You've got both of us," he said.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she said. "But have you seen the paper this morning?"

"No," I said. "Which one? We'll stop and pick one up."

"The Times," she answered.

Her voice sounded eerily calm, and I had a feeling that she was barely holding it together. Sometimes it was either be calm or crumble, and Liz rarely ever crumbled.

"What is it?" Bobby asked cautiously.

"A breaking story about how the MCS captain is using departmental funds to bankroll a private consulting business."

"What?" I shouted.

"Uh huh. It says that Danny is covering up criminal activity masterminded by former NYPD detectives under the guise of private investigations. Alex, it's bad. You guys aren't mentioned by name, but it's only a matter of time before you're all thrown into the limelight, too. It mentions breaking and entering, assault, illegal use of firearms…"

"What the hell is going on?" I asked rhetorically.

"I don't know, but they're likening it to vigilante justice. No longer governed by the NYPD rules, you're taking matters into your own hands."

I stopped at a light and turned to look at Bobby, who appeared as shell-shocked as I felt.

He shook his head and stared at the phone in his hand.

Surely his mind was racing to put the pieces together, but so far, we didn't have nearly enough information.

"Bobby, you guys warned Danny that the chess match had only just begun. Well, it looks like the second move was designed for more than just him. Whoever did this intends to take all of you out of the game."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

My original plan was to spend the weekend at home, mostly in the bed.

However, as appealing as that kind of thing usually sounds while I'm thinking about it, the reality of it just isn't quite the same.

I mean, look at us.

We left a lush resort in Rio ahead of schedule because we were bored.

Although, I didn't have a hangover in Rio.

I _did_ have one when I woke up Saturday morning.

So the plan, which I'd not actually expected to stick with, was looking better and better.

For the time being, I had no intention of leaving the bed, much less the state.

But then the phone rang.

"Don't answer it," I muttered. I was on my stomach with my face buried in the pillow.

I had no idea what time it was, and I didn't care. I was pretty sure that it wasn't Monday morning yet, and that was all that mattered.

Mike was next to me with his hand on my back, and he hadn't budged.

"I wasn't planning on it," he replied sleepily.

It stopped ringing, but there was only a minute of silence before my cell started to ring.

"Oh for God's sake," I said crossly as I grabbed the phone from the table. The clock showed that it was nine-thirty, but surely it was much earlier than that.

I stabbed at the button and held the phone to my ear.

"What?" I barked out.

It was John, and he was feeling particularly chatty.

"Mary called and suggested that we all get together. She wants to meet you, and even though she met Mike once, she doesn't really know him, and she's pretty sure that she can get away without working until at least tomorrow afternoon, so Rocco's taking care of getting the plane fueled up. How fast can you get to JFK?"

"I'm not going anywhere quickly," I groused.

The thought of being airborne on a good day was nauseating, but come on…I'd had a healthy share of three bottles of tequila only ten hours ago.

And probably the only reason that I still felt partially human was because I was likely still slightly drunk.

"Carolyn," he said. "Please? I really want you to meet her."

And he was so excited.

I sighed heavily and attempted to make my head quit throbbing by sheer force of will.

"I'll make sure the plane is stocked with coffee," he offered, sweetening the deal.

"The good stuff?"

"Of course."

"Let me talk to Mike. I'll call you back."

So that was how I found myself at JFK an hour after I was first awakened by the phone.

"I'm not sure about this little plane," I said quietly to Mike as we were escorted out onto the tarmac.

"It'll be better than the big ones."

"I don't think so."

Why did I have to be so afraid to fly? People did it all of the time, every day. What was the big deal?

"I'll take care of you," he promised, his lips right next to my ear.

And in every other scenario but this one, I might've found his words offensive.

But right now, I needed them.

When I was first partnered with Mike years ago, I would've never, ever admitted weakness. The few times we'd had to travel together on a plane had been torture for me because I'd had to sit there and act like I didn't have a care in the world.

Calm, cool Carolyn who's not afraid of anything.

But I didn't have to be like that anymore. And I wasn't above accepting comfort from my husband.

I grabbed his hand and walked with him onto the plane.

To some extent, Mike had been right. The smaller plane was luxurious, and once we took off, I was nearly able to forget that we were in the air.

Before I knew it, we'd landed in Albuquerque.

As we taxied toward the airport, Mike looked at John.

"I know you're into Mary right now, and I think that's great," he said, and his tone was surprisingly firm. "But if this thing doesn't work out and you find yourself single again…"

"I won't," John said quickly.

I was lost.

Mike's seriousness and John's speedy compliance to…what?

"You won't what?" I asked.

They continued to stare at each other, and a testosterone-filled moment passed between them.

No one said another word, and I didn't ask again. Mike would tell me later.

Mary turned out to be both not what I expected and yet perfect for John.

She was real, and funny, and humble. I tried to thank her for helping out in Denver and she quickly deflected.

"I was just one of the group."

And I could tell that she really liked John. We spent the day sightseeing and then we ended up in a dive bar that Mary swore had great food.

"So, you and Mike worked a case together once?" I asked her when the men left us alone at the table so that they could play a game of pool.

"Yeah. Sort of. I had to go to New York to fetch a witness, and his case overlapped with mine."

"Did he hit on you?"

"What? No," she denied.

"Mary, it's okay. I wasn't with him then. I'm just curious."

And I was poking at her a little. I wanted to see how she would respond. I mean, it's why John wanted us to meet her, right? To back up his assessment? To tell him that she's as great as he thinks she is?

"Okay, so maybe a little. But hey, I'm irresistible, so who can blame him? We never went out or anything."

"But you thought he was attractive," I stated. "Because now you're dating his virtual twin."

"Dating? Do we have to say that?"

"Are you opposed to the term?"

She sighed heavily and took a drink of her beer.

"Not normally, no."

"But?"

"But every time I've dated someone it's ended badly, and I really, really like John and so maybe I'm afraid to use the word because I'm afraid that the label will bring me bad luck. I mean, what difference does it make what we call it?"

"None at all," I said, smiling at her neurotic outburst. "But you're not going out with anyone else?"

"No."

"And he's not either."

"I hope not."

"He's not. When would he? He's been here four times in a week. And he does have a company to run."

"True."

"So…"

"We're not sleeping together. I mean, we were going to in Denver, but then I stopped it and then we started again, and then _he_ stopped it, so we just never, I mean we've done _some_…"

"Mary," I interrupted quickly. "I really don't need to know that."

"I just…he's your brother-in-law, and I know that you care about him, and I want to be honest with you. And…I'm actually a little bit nervous."

"About meeting me?"

"You. Mike. The idea that you were willing to fly across the country to meet me. I mean, it's not the same as driving into midtown to meet for dinner or something, right? You took your weekend to come out here. That's a big deal. And I just…I really like spending time with John."

"Good."

"So, I don't know. Did I pass the test?"

"Test?"

"Yeah, I mean, isn't this where I'm supposed to either get a thumbs up or thumbs down?"

"I don't know, is it?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Sorry," I said, picking up my beer. I was still on my first one, not having fully recovered from last night.

"You should get a shot," Mary suggested, obviously picking up on my reluctance to drink.

"What?"

"Tequila. John said you and Alex got hammered on tequila last night. You should get a shot. You know, hair of the dog."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"Trust me," she said with a grin. Then she went over to the bar and came back with two shots. She put them down on the table and nudged one towards me. "It'll help."

So I drank the shot. And actually, after the first terrifying minute when I was afraid that it might come back up, I did start to feel better.

We sat in quiet for a minute, both of us letting our gazes drift towards John and Mike. I'd said virtual twins earlier, and I meant it. The similarities still messed with my head a little.

But Mike had a better ass.

"They do look a lot alike," Mary mused without taking her eyes off of them. "I thought so, but it's been years since I saw Mike so then I thought that maybe I was just imagining the amazing likeness. But damn, seeing them together…"

"I know," I agreed.

"Of course, John's got a better ass," she said with a grin.

"You just keep telling yourself that," I replied, matching her smile.

Later that night, Mike and I checked into a hotel.

John went to Mary's.

Sunday, we flew back home around noon.

"I'm surprised that you didn't want to stay longer," I said to John as we boarded the plane. "Maybe take her out for a romantic dinner or something."

"We celebrated last night," he said vaguely. But the look on his face spoke volumes.

"I bet you did," Mike commented.

"I mean, I gave her a present."

"Uh huh."

The conversation went downhill from there.

And while I was curious to know what a millionaire bought his new girlfriend for Valentine's Day, I didn't ask. I figured that I'd be talking to Mary again soon enough. In fact…

"Give me Mary's cell phone number," I said to John.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just give it to me," I said on a sigh. The pilot had just started the engines and the last thing I felt like doing was arguing.

But I needed to do one more thing.

He gave me her number, and I sent her a text.

_**Thumbs up**_.

Sunday night, Mike and I spent a quiet night at home.

"I didn't buy you a present," he said apologetically.

"That's okay. We have been pretty busy."

Mike wasn't ever shy about telling me what I meant to him. I didn't need a designated day for that and I certainly wasn't going to give him grief because he hadn't found the time to shop for something. _I _hadn't had time to shop, either.

"Come on," he said as he held out his hand to me. "Let me show you how much I love you."

"Mike, you don't have to…"

"Come on."

We went upstairs where he slowly undressed me and then spent the next hour massaging and caressing my whole body.

My nerves were tingling and I was in heaven. This was better than any present.

He turned me onto my stomach and made a second pass over my back, rubbing my neck and shoulder blades.

My eyelids were heavy as I relaxed into the moment, and then he moved his hands off of me for a second and began kissing the back of my neck. I felt his fingertips slide around the front of my neck before returning to the back.

"What…" I began to question.

"I lied," he said softly. "I did buy you a present."

I rolled onto my back and reached up to feel the pendant that rested against my throat. I glanced down and saw an emerald-cut sapphire stone hanging from a silver chain.

"Mike," I managed to say, suddenly choked up by his display of romanticism.

"It matches the ring," he said, and he looked so unsure of himself.

Did he actually think that I wouldn't like it? That the gift itself was as important as the gesture? It could've been from a bubble gum machine.

Another wave of love hit me as I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down to me.

"Yes it does," I replied. "It's beautiful. I love it.

I kissed him as I felt tears sting my eyes. He'd really caught me by surprise, and I couldn't help the emotion that rolled through me. But I didn't want to hide it from him, either.

He deserved to know just exactly how he made me feel.

He pulled back from me and, propping himself on one forearm, he used his other hand to wipe the tears from my eyes. He didn't question their existence. In fact, his eyes looked a little shiny, too.

Then he trailed his finger down to my neck where the pendant had slid off to the side. He touched it briefly, moving it back to the center.

He leaned over to kiss me again, hesitating at the last moment before bringing his lips to mine, and whispered, "It's almost as beautiful as you."

Suffice it to say that Sunday night was one of the best of my life. And since I've been with Mike, there have been quite a few good ones.

But Sunday night…wow.

Anyone who tries to say that Mike doesn't know how to be romantic needs to have his head examined.

He might have a tough exterior, but on the inside…he's just…absolutely perfect.

We got to the office at seven-thirty Monday morning. It was early, but we were both ready to jump into the week.

I went into the kitchen to start some coffee while Mike took his things into his office.

"Hey guys, in here," I called out when I heard Alex and Bobby come in. "How was your…"

I trailed off when I saw the looks on their faces.

"What is it?"

Bobby tossed a paper onto the kitchen table.

"Check it out," he said. "Is Mike here?"

"Yeah," I replied numbly as I picked up the paper. "Mike!"

"What's going on?" he asked when he came into the room.

"Oh my God," I mumbled as I read. Mike circled around and read over my shoulder.

It was an article about Ross.

And us.

"It just never ends, does it?" he muttered. "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know. But we're going to have to find this reporter," Alex said. "Carolyn, I'm sorry…"

"You're sorry? For what?"

"This was your business. You brought us in, and now…"

"Now we're under attack," I said firmly. "All of us."

"Yeah, but if we hadn't…" Bobby began, but I interrupted him.

"How do you know that whoever's behind this is gunning for you two? Maybe they want to see Mike go down. Or maybe me."

"Hell, it could be all four of us. It's hard to say who we've pissed off," Mike added.

"Exactly," I agreed. "And it looks like we've got our work cut out for us, so we don't have time to point fingers or play the blame game, okay?"

I waited while Bobby and Alex looked first at each other and then at me and nodded their agreement.

"I bet Ross is fit to be tied," Mike mumbled as he scanned over the article again. "This thing acts like he's the kingpin of a renegade police force. So much for the chief of D's job."

"It's got to be about more than that," Alex said. "Otherwise why bring us into it?"

"And where did they get this information? Some of it is almost accurate, but it's been skewed to make us look bad."

"It's someone who's been close to us at some point," I said. "Someone who's seen how we work."

"That narrows the field," Alex said.

"What are you suggesting?" Mike asked. "Lupo? Bernard? Connie?"

"No, not them," Bobby answered for me. "I refuse to believe that. But we have to start with them."

"And Ross and Liz," Alex added. "They may have talked about things to people without realizing they were dealing with the enemy."

"We have to question our friends. That's just great."

"I don't like it any better than you do, but for now we have to assume that it could be anyone."

"Which means that we can't trust anyone but the four of us."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Ross POV**

* * *

Liz sat across from me in my office.

She was stunned into silence and quite frankly, so was I.

It was bad enough that my name was being pulled through the mud, but now whoever was doing this had to bring in the others, too.

And for what purpose?

Was it still just to make me look bad?

And if it was, then the sixty-four thousand dollar question was _why_?

To what end?

Just to keep me out of the chief's office?

Well, I could end it all quickly and just pull my name from the running if that's what this was about.

Or it could be about them, too.

But if it was, then that seriously narrowed the suspect pool.

Who would have it in for _all_ of us?

Although I guess it didn't have to be all of us. It could be me along with any one of the four of them.

My mind did endless circles around the possibilities as I determined the best starting point.

Liz had called Alex as soon as we saw the paper, so I had no doubt that the four of them would be here at any moment.

But how would they be feeling?

Anger toward me at causing trouble for their livelihoods?

Distrust, considering the near accuracy of some of the details?

Just when I was starting to feel comfortable with everything…Liz and I were happy, I had good friends, the department was getting cleaned up…I guess I should've known something like this would happen.

"What are you thinking?" Liz asked quietly.

"I'm thinking that I'd really like to know who's behind this."

"Uh huh."

"And that I wish they'd left them out of it. They find enough trouble on their own. They don't need me adding to the pile."

"This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it? We don't really know that until we know who's behind it."

"Danny…"

"I'm going to the commissioner. I'm going to tell him to publicly remove my name from the running."

"But you weren't publicly _in_ the running," she reminded me.

And that was true. Although quite a few people did know, due to the vetting process and the IAB inquiry, but still…it wasn't like an announcement had been made.

I mean, I didn't even know for sure who the other candidates were, so how would everyone have known about me?

"Besides," she continued. "I don't think that's the answer."

"Well, what is then?" I asked in frustration. "What am I supposed to do? Just sit around here while my reputation is ruined, and those of my friends along with it? This article practically accuses them of being felons! For God's sake, Liz, that's crazy!"

I was getting myself worked up again.

I'd gone in cycles since I first read the news.

Shock, followed by anger, followed by helplessness, followed again by anger.

I got up and paced around the room in an effort to work off some of my ire.

"I'm going to the commissioner," I said again. "I need to know the names of the other candidates. They should be at the top of the suspect list, right?"

"If this is about that," she replied calmly. I don't know how she was maintaining her cool, but I was really glad that she was. If she was unraveling along with me, then we'd be in trouble. "But if it is, why are you the only one on the hot seat? If this is about removing the competition, wouldn't there be trouble for the other candidates, too?"

"There may only be one other candidate," I suggested. "I mean, I have no idea who's on the short list. But I need to find out. I can't let this…person…whoever…ruin everyone's reputation."

"Unless that's part of the plan. You have to consider the possibility that the promotion has nothing to do with it."

"Well then they have impeccable timing," I retorted.

My annoyance was getting the better of me, as was my fear that my newly forged friendships would be on the skids.

I paused on my fifth lap around the office when motion in the squad room caught my attention.

It was the Gorens and Logans, and I couldn't help but watch them as they crossed the room in an almost celebrity-like fashion.

And I don't mean their attitude.

I mean the demeanor of the MCS detectives in the room.

Conversations came to a halt and phone calls were abruptly ended as everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the progress of my former detectives.

And maybe it was the aura of importance and confidence that they projected.

Or maybe it was simply the article.

But whichever the case, none of the four seemed to notice.

They all looked intently toward their destination, which was my office.

And they all looked mad as hell.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

We needed to get out ahead of this thing.

I didn't like that someone was trying to bury Ross, and I really didn't like that they were pulling us into it.

My initial reaction had been one ingrained in me.

_This is my fault. _

_This is happening because of me. _

_I need to separate myself from the others to protect them._

But it didn't take long before I realized the narcissism contained within that point of view.

Every bad thing that happened was because of me?

Really?

Because no one else was worthy of being targeted?

That was crap, and I knew it. Instead of trying to shoulder the blame, I needed to buckle down and unravel this mystery.

After bringing Mike and Carolyn up to speed, Alex made a call to the Times.

The byline under the article heading was a reporter by the name of A.J. Hemmings. He was apparently out of the office, and although the secretary offered to take a message, she did not offer to put Alex through to voicemail, nor did she sound confidence-inspiring with the idea that Hemmings would ever receive the message.

"Let's go talk to Ross," Mike stated after the wasted phone call. "We can keep trying Hemmings and meet him whenever he becomes available. I really would love to talk to him."

So we headed for 1PP.

"Let's think about this," Carolyn said as we made the drive. Mike was driving and Carolyn was up front with him while Alex and I rode in the backseat. "What are we looking at?"

"Someone wants to trash Ross. The effort last week with the Jarrow thing flopped," Alex suggested.

"Maybe, but then why bring us into it?"

"We defended him," I said. "If our reputations are tarnished, then it makes our statements less credible."

"So it's just Ross," Mike remarked. "Right?"

"As opposed to someone who hates us all?" Carolyn asked. "I don't know."

"And where would they get their details?" Alex asked, pulling out the paper again.

She began to read from the middle of the article:

_The firm, which is classified as a consulting firm, actually comprises of four former NYPD detectives, all of whom are now licensed private investigators. But does 'licensed' give them the right to break and enter? To run roughshod over the Trenton Police Department? To conduct a sting in a public venue which resulted in the shooting of an innocent civilian? Apparently Captain Ross has been using his clout as the captain of NYPD's Major Case Squad to help smooth the ruffled feathers created by this vigilante organization. Furthermore, it has been reported that Captain Ross has, at times, assigned his own detectives, paid for with taxpayers' money, to provide assistance and legwork for this so-called consulting firm. _

_It has also been reported that Captain Ross himself was a prime suspect in a murder investigation back in September. No further details are available at this time, but an inquiry is being conducted by the department's Internal Affairs Bureau. _

"There's nothing in there about Chicago," Mike commented. "Ross went the furthest out on a limb during that case."

"And where would they get the information about the Trenton PD?" Carolyn questioned. "I mean, I can see how people would know about the thing at Steve-O's. But Trenton? When you two broke into Rhonda's house?"

"And why in the world would there be an IAB inquiry into Marcus Rodgers' murder? His killers are in prison. It's a done deal, so that's just a blatant lie."

"There's a mole," I said. "There has to be."

It had the feel of the parting of the Red Sea when we walked through the squad room of the eleventh floor of 1PP, but I only vaguely registered it.

I focused on Ross' office.

He had the blinds open, and I could see him watching us. Liz was there, too, and I was glad for that. He had to be pretty upset, and it was good that she was staying with him to help him keep a handle on things.

He opened the door as we arrived, so we entered the office without breaking stride.

He shut it behind us and closed the blinds.

"Let me start by apologizing…" Ross began, but I quickly interrupted.

"Captain, there's no need for apologizing. You're as much, if not more, of a target in this as the rest of us."

And I wasn't sure why I'd reverted to calling him captain, but it just seemed appropriate in this situation.

"He's right," Alex spoke up before he could respond. "But if you don't mind, we want to walk you back through the last few weeks. Both of you."

"You think _I'm_ the leak?" Liz asked sharply.

"Of course not," Carolyn assured her. "But it's someone who's close."

"Where are Lupo and Bernard?" Mike asked Ross.

"They picked up a case," Ross replied. "A dead body in John Jay Park."

"And it's a Major Case?" I asked, more out of habit than anything else.

"A tourist," Ross answered. "The commissioner's trying to clean up the city's image, but it seems outside forces are working against him."

"Have they seen the article?" Carolyn asked him.

"Probably not. They got the call around three a.m."

"Well, when they come in, we'll have to speak with them, too," Mike said.

"In fact, that may be really important," I added.

"Why is that?"

"The details offered in the article…did you notice that they're all from recent cases? Things that happened in Chicago and prior aren't mentioned. The Chicago case was when Bernard got assigned to you."

"Detective Bernard is an exceptional police officer," Ross spoke up.

And I was glad to see that he was defending his guy.

I'd spent too many years _not _being defended by Ross. Not that I still blamed him for that. I was over it. Mostly. But it was nice to know that he'd learned from his past mistakes.

"I agree," I told him. "But he might be talking to someone and not even realize that he's giving up information. Lupo, too. He came in shortly thereafter. We at least need to question them."

"What about the part with Danny being a murder suspect? That was from Marcus' death," Liz said. "Neither Lupo nor Bernard were here then."

"No, but that was common knowledge," I said. "It was reported in the paper at the time. It's not a secret."

"Are they going to be dragging that back out too?" Ross asked with a sigh.

"You need to be prepared for it," Alex told him. "Until we figure out where the information is coming from, there's no way to know how much they have."

"It is curious though that there's no mention of Liz," Carolyn mused.

"I'm inconsequential," Liz replied with a shrug.

"I don't think so," Carolyn countered. "I think it's a clue as to where the information is coming from. Prior to Chicago, someone knew the basics but not the details."

"Right," I agreed with a nod. "Because Ross was only a suspect due to protocol. He was your husband and your ex-husband was killed. But there was never any serious consideration behind that possibility."

"While I was actually a viable suspect," she finished. "And if someone wants to trash Danny, then making me look bad might help the process."

"But why bring up the murder from last fall, and yet not mention the IAB inquiry from just this past week?" Alex questioned. "I mean, no offense, but you were labeled as being a potential conspirator. Why not bring that up in the article? Recent news is always better than old news."

Our speculation was interrupted by the ringing of Ross' office phone.

"Captain Ross," he answered. "Yes sir. Yes sir. Give me twenty minutes."

He hung up and rubbed his hand over his face before looking at each of us in turn.

"That was the commissioner. He's asking to speak with me in his office. He didn't sound pleased."

"He's probably upset about the article as well," Carolyn stated. "He signed off on using our consulting firm. He approved hiring us as subcontractors. It would be helpful if he would issue a statement to that effect in an effort to dispel the slant that you somehow illegally used department funds to pay for our services."

We all headed for the door, and when Ross opened it, we saw Lupo and Bernard entering the squad room.

"I'd like to come with you," Carolyn added. "I can wait while the two of you talk, but then if he has a few more minutes, maybe he will have time to speak with me."

"We'll stay here and talk with Lupo and Bernard," Mike told her when Ross agreed to have her tag along with him. "We'll meet up with you afterward."

"Alex, do you want to…" I said as Ross and Carolyn walked in the direction of the elevator. I gave a tilt of my head toward Liz.

"You want Lupo or Bernard?" Mike asked me once Alex had ducked back into Ross' office with Liz to get her accounting of the past few weeks, and who she may have come into contact with and discussed our cases.

"Doesn't matter," I answered.

And it didn't.

They were both friends, and now we were going to have to treat them each like suspects.

"Let's just get it over with," Mike said, echoing my thoughts. "So that we can find the real bastard who's behind this mess."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Logan POV**

* * *

I took Bernard and Bobby took Lupo.

We separated them for no other reason than that was how it worked best.

Otherwise, they might rely on each other for recall.

Not only that, but Bernard had worked here for a few weeks while Lupo was between departments, and that time span seemed to be integral.

"You know I'm on a case," he told me as we went down the hall.

"I'll try to keep it brief."

"You're really going to interrogate me."

"_Talk_ to you," I corrected.

"Cap knows about this? Because I don't need him busting my balls when he wants an update on that murder and I tell him I've been in here playing patty cake with you."

"He knows. Have a seat."

"And tell you…what? Everything I know about everything?"

Yeah, he was being a smart ass because he obviously still hadn't read the paper and I hadn't filled him in on the details yet.

I wondered if Lupo was giving Bobby a hard time, too.

Maybe.

Probably.

But I had no doubt that Bobby would handle him.

"Not everything. Just start from when you first came to Major Case," I told him once I'd closed the door behind us.

"Oh, sure. Okay, that makes it easy. You want me to tell you everyone I spoke with, everyone I worked with, everyone I saw…over the course of the past six weeks. No problem."

"Bernard, come on. Work with me, man."

"Yeah, because I'm not resenting this at all."

I barked out a laugh at his statement, which served to piss him off a little further, but I couldn't help myself. I could remember saying the exact same thing to Bobby and Alex back when they were Goren and Eames.

It was the first time I'd met them, and they were investigating some unsavory activity at a prison where my then-girlfriend worked.

"You think this is funny?"

"No. No I don't. But I think we've all been where you are. And I hope that you know me enough to know that I don't take this lightly. Somebody is putting the screws to Ross, and I think they might be using either you or Lupo to find the ammunition to do it. So let's work together on this, okay?"

"What exactly is _this_. I thought the IAB thing was cleared."

I pulled out the paper and tossed it onto the table in front of him. He looked at me, and then picked it up slowly. I gave him time to read the article.

"What the…" he muttered.

"See why we're circling the wagons?"

"I…um…oh man. I need a minute."

"What is it?" I asked him, instantly on the alert.

"I need to make a phone call."

"Tell me. You know who did this?"

"I…I don't know. I need to check on something."

"Check on what?"

"Damn it, Logan, give me some respect here. I need two damn minutes to make a phone call, okay? You know I'm not guilty of doing any of this, and if I'm somehow inadvertently responsible, you'll be the first to know."

He held my gaze, without backing down or looking away and without animosity or resentment.

After a moment, I gave him a nod and left him alone in the room.

I stood out in the hall, and while I waited, I could hear him shouting.

"You deliberately misled me!"

Who was he talking to? And what in that article had sparked his suspicion?

"I'm coming over there, and you're going to talk to me and explain what's going on. I'm serious. Janelle…no, you listen to me. Fifteen minutes. And you'd better be there!"

After another few seconds, the door to the conference room whipped open and Bernard stormed out.

"Field trip?" I asked him as I hustled to keep up.

"I don't need you to be a chaperone, and I don't need your sarcasm."

"Where are we going?" I asked purposefully.

A phone call was one thing. An on-site visit was another. If he was in this mess, we were going to figure it out together.

"Eighth Avenue," he muttered as he snagged his coat from the back of the chair.

"Do I get a hint?" I asked him, still following closely, but now with my phone out. I quickly typed a text, which I sent to Bobby and Alex and Carolyn.

_**With Bernard following a lead. I'll check in later**_.

"We're going to see a woman," he said with more venom than I'd ever heard him use.

"Any one in particular?"

"The one who cancelled on me before date number seven."

"Now's not exactly the time to discuss a break-up."

"Logan…"

"Just tell me," I said as he stabbed at the elevator button. "Why are we going to talk to her now? Does she know this A.J. Hemmings guy?"

"She _is_ A.J. Hemmings. She goes by Janelle."

"You dated a reporter?" I yelled out in surprise.

"I didn't _know_ she was a reporter. She told me she was a writer, trying to catch a break."

"She never mentioned the Times?"

"No," he said in annoyance.

The elevator opened its doors in the parking garage and Bernard took off again with a full head of steam.

He was furious and I could understand why.

It seemed that he was our leak.

**

* * *

**

Bernard POV

I tried really hard not to be offended by Logan's take-charge attitude.

I didn't work for him.

And I didn't answer to him.

But I did follow him down the hall to the conference room out of respect for him.

He was a friend. Hell, I'd just lost a hundred and fifty dollars in a poker game at his house on Friday night.

So I gave him the benefit of the doubt when he told me that we needed to talk. And I tried not to let my mind run rampant when I saw that Goren was corralling Lupo.

Something was up, but I didn't know what, so I decided to let this thing play out.

I'd quizzed him briefly, to which he'd replied vaguely, and then I sat down at the table.

For a minute, when he laughed despite my sullen attitude, I was ready to get up and walk out.

I didn't sign on for this shit.

But then I reminded myself that Logan had a weird sense of humor. Kind of like mine.

And I also knew that Van Buren thought the world of him, and I thought the world of her, so I decided to cut him some slack on what I perceived to be a condescending attitude.

Because maybe I was just being defensive.

He mentioned Ross and tossed me the paper, and all malicious thoughts about Logan went out of the window.

I should've known there was something to this.

But in all honesty, I'd been pulled out of my bed in the middle of the night to go work a case on which we had no leads. I was kind of in a crappy mood.

And call me crazy, but when he gave me the paper, I read the article without looking at the byline.

I didn't think that would be the important part.

Turned out that it was.

I read through the article twice and then while I let the libelous information soak into my brain, my eyes scanned upward along the header.

_A.J. Hemmings_.

Now that was weird because the girl who'd just dumped me was named Janelle Hemmings.

And she was a writer.

She'd never said anything about working for the Times, and she'd never mentioned going by the name A.J., but there was no way that she at least didn't know who this person was.

And I was hoping that she just _knew_ this person. That she hadn't maliciously shared any of stories I'd told her, but instead was an innocent victim in this whole thing.

I tried to wrack my brain to think of what stories I _had_ told her.

Of course, I'd been trying to work my way into her bed, so it's possible that I'd dressed things up a little.

Maybe made myself seem a little better, a little more important. Maybe made things seem a little more exciting and dangerous.

"I need to make a phone call," I said at last.

It was going to be ugly when I confessed to the others what I'd done, but I needed to confirm it first. I needed to know what she'd done, and why.

The _why_ was important, too.

Of course, Logan didn't want to just walk away and I didn't blame him. You didn't question someone, have them remember something, and then leave them alone to make a phone call to potentially cover it up.

But I wasn't going to cover up anything…I just needed…a _minute_.

One freaking minute.

"Damn it, Logan, give me some respect here. I need two damn minutes to make a phone call, okay? You know I'm not guilty of doing any of this, and if I'm somehow inadvertently responsible, you'll be the first to know."

I looked him in the eye and waited for him to decide.

And it_ was_ his decision. I wasn't going to kid myself about that.

Ross was under fire, and Logan was investigating.

I was currently a suspect.

Because of Janelle.

I _really_ wanted to talk to her.

Logan gave me a nod and left the room. I felt a rush of guilt over my earlier misgivings about him.

He was a good man. He was doing the right thing.

I was the one in trouble here.

I was the one who'd bragged about cases to my girlfriend, and now she'd twisted it into something else and published it in the damn paper.

I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

"Janelle. It's Kevin," I said. "Or do you prefer for me to call you A.J.?"

"I guess you are a good detective," she said derisively. "You figured it out with the first article."

"First? There's going to be more? And why didn't you tell me you're a damn reporter?"

"I told you that I was a writer. That's what I am. I just didn't mention that my writing gets published every week or so."

"You deliberately misled me!"

"Damn, Kevin, don't you read the Times? You never noticed my name on an article before? I thought you knew."

I was fuming by her nonchalance and her implication that there would be subsequent stories. I had to nip this in the bud.

I told her that I was coming to her office and then I hung up on her and jammed the phone into my suit pocket.

I didn't expect to be able to shake Logan, but at the moment I was so angry that I couldn't see straight. I left the conference room, with Logan right behind me.

"Field trip?" he asked casually.

And I swear, ninety-nine days out of a hundred, I would've laughed.

I appreciate a good sense of humor, even in stressing times.

But not now.

Not when my boss was being flayed in the press because of me.

Not to mention the likelihood that Logan and his wife were next, along with Bobby and Alex.

"I don't need you to be a chaperone, and I don't need your sarcasm."

"Where are we going?"

I didn't want to tell him because I didn't want him to fly off the handle.

Like me.

One of us needed to be calm. It was going to have to be him, because I was encroaching on seriously pissed off.

I gruffly told him the street name, but I didn't say which building. If I'd said _The New York Times Building_, as it was so aptly named, then he would obviously figure it out.

Of course, he doesn't quit. His doggedness is part of his charm.

"Do I get a hint?"

I finally admitted that we were going to see a woman.

I didn't even want to think about Janelle.

_A.J._

Hey, I've been in the game awhile.

I've been dumped.

I've been used.

But she'd done both, and not just used me but used me to get to my friends.

To people I respected.

"Now's not exactly the time to discuss a break-up," Logan quipped when I explained who we were going to see. I sighed and attempted to get a grip on my temper, but he kept at me until I spouted out the truth.

"She _is_ A.J. Hemmings. She goes by Janelle."

I couldn't blame him for his surprise, because hell, I was the one who'd dated her and yet I was surprised.

And it wasn't like it was against the rules for a cop to date a reporter, but…for the love of God the cop should at least _know_. He should at least get the _warning_ so that he kept his damn mouth shut about cases.

She'd intentionally deceived me just so that I would talk.

And the more I thought about our dates, and how she'd steered the conversations…I was disgusted with myself.

I'd truly thought that she was into me, but she only wanted to know what I knew.

But again, I had to wonder why?

What was her point for going after Ross?

I mean, yeah, it was a good story, but a career-breaking story for a reporter?

I didn't think so.

Maybe if she'd gone after the commissioner or something, but a captain?

And really, it was all going to blow over once we were able to prove the holes in her story.

And _we_ would prove the holes.

There was no way I wasn't going to be involved with this, with _both_ hands.

Damn if I was going to be pinned as a leak, or as the downfall of a good man like Ross. No, I had to set things straight.

And hopefully…_hopefully_ if I came completely clean with everyone, and helped force Janelle to reveal her intent _and_ her other sources…then _maybe_ I might earn back some trust.

Because right now, I was the odd man out. And that was unacceptable.

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I'd started my day with a call from the captain at three a.m.

That meant I'd had to leave the warmth and comfort of my bed while it was still dark outside.

And I'd only gotten into it a few hours before, so that made it even harder.

Because I mean, I'd been out cold.

Connie still was.

The ringing phone hadn't even roused her from sleep, and as I'd shifted to move away from her and out from beneath the covers, she'd reached blindly for my hand in an effort to hold me in place.

I wanted to stay with her so badly that I _almost_ called Ross back to tell him that I was sick.

Or something.

Anything to keep from having to go out to John Jay Park and look at some poor dead guy.

Because really, he wasn't going to get any _more_ dead if I waited another few hours, was he?

I mentally berated myself for such un-detective like thoughts, and instead gave Connie a kiss on the cheek and forced myself from the bed.

And as it turned out, the day pretty much went down hill from there.

Bernard and I got nothing from the crime scene.

No witnesses, no evidence, no clear motive.

We were nowhere.

So we went back to 1PP to regroup.

And that's when we crossed paths with Goren and Logan.

"Can we talk for a minute?" Goren had asked, and when I pulled my eyes away from my hastily written crime scene notes, I realized that he was only looking at me.

"Um…sure," I said hesitantly.

Logan was still lurking around our desks, but he was focused on Bernard.

"It'll just take a minute," Logan said to him.

"What's up?" I questioned.

"Not here," Goren said. "In a conference room."

Logan gestured for Bernard to follow him in another direction, so I'd gone with Goren, down the hall and into a room where I was fully and properly interrogated.

He hadn't called it that. In fact, he'd done his best to call it everything _but_ that, but still…that's what it boiled down to.

And I didn't blame him for it. In fact, I understood perfectly, and I would've done the same thing in his shoes.

But it didn't make it suck any less for me.

Then I'd found out that Bernard was the leak, so to speak. My _partner_.

Of course, it hadn't been intentional, but again…that didn't make it suck less.

Although I guess I had to consider the fact that as bad as my day had been, Bernard's was worse.

Which was why I'd invited him out for a beer, because hey – that's what partners did for each other.

"She recorded our dates, Lupes," he said after downing half of his first beer within seconds of the bartender placing it in front of him. "_Recorded_ them so that she could replay them later and pull out facts for her stories."

"And she wouldn't say why?"

"She's sticking with the story that it's all for her. That she thinks breaking open a scandal within the NYPD will make her career."

"If that were true then she wouldn't have pinned it all on Ross," I said. "She'd have focused more on what the department as a whole was doing to support the supposed vigilantism."

"That's what Logan said. He called her out on it, but she didn't cave," he replied before finishing off the rest of his drink.

At this rate, he'd be drunk in an hour, but that was fine. I'd make sure he got home okay, and then he'd be ready to hit the ground running again tomorrow. We still had a murder to solve, and there was still this whole…issue.

But for now, if anyone deserved a night of self-pity, it was Bernard.

"But she's lying," he continued.

"Of course she is," I agreed.

"So you think that she…she went out with me just to get information? I mean, she had to, right?"

There was no point in dressing it up.

I mean, you can batter and fry a cow patty but it all comes down to the fact that underneath, it's still just bullshit.

Besides, he knew the answer already.

"Yeah, she did. But that doesn't mean…"

"I am so stupid. How could I have thought that someone like her was really interested in me?"

"Hey, man, come on. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Easy for you to say. You've got an ADA who looks like a cover model waiting at home for you."

"Yeah, I do. And look at me. So what does that tell you?"

"Even a blind squirrel can find a nut every now and again?" he replied, and he finally laughed.

Relief flooded through me at the return of his sense of humor. I hadn't been sure if I'd be able to pick him up or not. It was usually the other way around.

"That's right," I agreed, flashing him a smile and then waving to the bartender to bring us a couple more beers. "And the best payback against Janelle is to find out what the hell she's up to so that we can stop it before it happens."

"Uh huh," he said with a nod. "Or at least before any _more_ happens. And maybe if we do that, then the guys will forgive me."

I had a feeling that part was bothering him even more than being used by Janelle.

He was upset that he'd put Ross in a bind, as well as the Gorens and the Logans.

And he felt like he'd lost their trust.

"Ross isn't upset with you," I told him. "There isn't a cop alive who hasn't shared non-confidential information about their cases with a girlfriend or a date. And what you talked about with Janelle wasn't any kind of violation of trust. It wasn't top secret information. She just managed to skew it into looking like something illegal was going on."

"Yeah, but now they're all in a position of having to defend themselves."

"Lucky for you we're pretty damn good at that."

It was Logan.

Actually, Logan and Goren both.

I'd sent them a text and asked them to stop by if they had time, but I hadn't really expected them to show.

The fact that they had went a long way toward backing up my point.

Bernard had gotten suckered into a bad situation for which no one was blaming him but himself.

"Logan, if you're here to kick my ass, let's just get it out of the way right now," Bernard said.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked as he sat down next to Bernard at the bar. Goren sat on the other side of him and the two of them each ordered a beer.

Bernard stared at him for a minute and then looked back at me.

"I told you," I said with a shrug. "You're more pissed at yourself than any of us are at you."

"Did you forget that I slept with the psycho woman who later stalked me and had my wife kidnapped?" Logan asked with a smile.

"And I slept with a witness who turned out to be a killer _during_ an investigation," I reminded him.

It hadn't been a high point in my life, but it had been a lesson learned.

Never, never mix business with pleasure.

"What about you?" Bernard asked Goren.

"Um…I don't sleep with anyone but my wife," he replied with a grin.

Logan barked out a laugh and Bernard started chuckling.

"I don't either _now_," Logan elaborated. "Surely you made some bad choices before Alex came along."

"You know what really stinks about this whole thing?" Bernard said, saving Goren from having to answer. "I didn't even _get_ to sleep with her."

We all started laughing, including Bernard, and suddenly the lines that had been drawn earlier back at 1PP seemed a little more faded.

Yeah, Logan and Goren would still have to take point on the rest of this investigation, but we were ultimately on the same side.

"So where are we?" I said once the laughter had died down. "What happened with Ross and the commissioner?"

Bernard and I had spent the afternoon working on our murder case, so we'd been unable to hang around and find out the outcome of his meeting.

"Yeah, is he still in the running?"

"He is," Goren said. "Ross offered to pull out, but the commissioner insisted. It seems as though he has Ross' back."

"Really?" I asked in surprise. "What about the whole department image thing?"

"The department stands firm behind the actions of Captain Ross, and those of their contracted consultants," Logan said. "That's the official response."

"Of course, it didn't hurt that Carolyn reminded the commissioner that making us available for hire to the department as a whole was his decision," Goren said.

"Yeah, after you and Alex tossed his captain's job offers back at him," Logan added.

"They wanted to make you a captain?" Bernard asked.

"Don't sound so surprised," Logan said, since Goren didn't respond.

"It was just his way of trying to make it up to me about the whole Moran thing, that's all," he deflected.

"They don't dole out captain's jobs as statements of gratitude," I said. "Don't sell yourself short."

"Well, anyway, we have him on our side. And he even hired us to find out who's trying to railroad Ross," Goren told us.

"Nice," Bernard replied with a nod. "I think I might like that man."

"So did he give up the short list?" I asked. Because we really needed to know who was in the running for the COD's job if for nothing more than to rule the others out.

"Four names, including Ross," Logan answered. "And we talked to all of them today. I don't see any of them being involved. Hell, two of them didn't even realize that Ross was in the running, and the third guy only wants the job offer to beef up his resume. He even admitted to us that he wasn't going to take it if it was offered to him."

"So where does that leave us?" Bernard asked.

Which was a very good question. The theory thus far had been that someone wanted Ross out of the running.

And maybe that was still true, but if it wasn't being done by one of his competitors, then who?

Who hated him enough to want to try to keep him from getting the job just on principle?

And why had the others been brought into it?

"We need to take another run at your girl," Logan said.

"Please, _please_ don't call her that," Bernard said with a shake of his head.

"A.J.," Goren corrected, giving Logan a chuck with his elbow. "We need to find out what she's up to. She's the best lead we've got. Otherwise, we're shooting in the dark here."

"You couldn't get anything out of her before?" I asked.

"Nah, and when I tried to play the heavy with her, she called security," Logan answered. "But she's definitely hiding something."

"Maybe we can put a tail on her," Goren suggested.

"I'd like to get my hands on those tapes," Bernard said.

I could tell that he was mortified by the prospect of any of them being made public, and I felt really bad for him.

"Well, if you want me to send Carolyn over to her place…"

"Logan, I know you're not suggesting another B&E," I said, although I had to laugh.

"Hey, I didn't say anything about that," he replied innocently.

"No, but you know what?" Goren posed. "That might not be a bad idea."

"Breaking and entering?" Bernard asked loudly.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "But A.J. doesn't know Carolyn or Alex. What if we use one of them as another source?"

"How?"

"She can say that she read the article, and maybe offer up some additional information."

"For the purpose of what? How will it help us to get more bad publicity?"

"She offers dirt on someone else," I said, finally realizing where he was going. "And see if A.J. takes the bait. If she's working on the department as a whole, she'll bite. If she's only interested in Ross or you guys, then she'll blow it off."

"Right. It's not great, but it might help narrow our focus. And if we work it right, maybe Carolyn will get an opportunity for a little bit of snooping."

"I like it," Logan said with a grin.

"Me, too," Bernard agreed. "But you've got to promise me something."

"What's that?"

"If she recovers any tapes, they're mine."

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Alex POV**

* * *

It was a long week full of dead-ends, frustration, and tension.

By the time Thursday arrived, it was time to face the facts that we'd reached a stalemate with the Ross case.

A.J. Hemmings had disappeared.

And I don't mean in the _under suspicion of foul play_ sense.

I just mean she'd pulled up stakes and left the city, leaving no forwarding address, no trail, no nothing.

And that happened on Tuesday.

So Carolyn never got to play undercover source.

We never gathered any additional information from her.

And we never learned her ultimate goal.

On the flip side, today's paper held no new article.

Today was the day that she'd threatened to publish part two.

But the Times wouldn't talk to us, so we had no way of knowing if it was still coming.

Would it be tomorrow?

Would _that_ be the day that a bombshell dropped on us?

Or had she even turned in a second article?

Maybe that had been a bluff.

Maybe she was still working on it.

Maybe the chat with Bernard and Logan had given her a conscience.

I was going crazy with the possibilities because as far as I was concerned, the _not knowing_ was so much worse than knowing and having to deal with bad news.

I _hated_ not knowing.

But it was beyond my control.

Carolyn was attempting to track her down, but had so far been unsuccessful.

In the mean time, life went on.

Mike was handling another consult with the Bureau.

Lupo and Bernard were still pursuing the murderer of Monday's early morning victim.

Ross was back to normal, and the vetting process had reconvened. There were no active IAB inquiries and for three days, MCS had been fairly quiet.

Bobby and I went back to tracking Paul Jennings. And I wasn't even sure that I wanted to find him, so that made it kind of tough to throw all of my focus into the case.

Not to mention the fact that I'd heard nothing from Cathy.

Not a single word.

I'd left her messages.

Sean had left her messages.

And nothing.

I'd had dinner with Sean Monday night while Bobby had drinks with Bernard.

"_Next time don't call Lupo to arrest him,"_ he'd told me. _"Call me."_

"_There'd better not be a next time,"_ I'd answered.

"_Alex, you know how it goes as well as I do,"_ he'd said sadly. _"There _will_ be a next time."_

And damn it, I knew that he was right. Which meant that I was essentially just waiting for the crash.

Yet _another_ aspect of my life over which I had absolutely no control.

"Look at this, Alex," Bobby said to me, pulling me from my mood-deteriorating introspection.

I'd been working in Bobby's office all day, so I got up from my spot on the other side of his desk and walked around to look over his shoulder.

"What did you find?"

He'd been working on tracking down members of known underground organizations who helped battered women and children. Those types of organizations weren't exactly public, so it was a difficult task.

But Bobby had put in a call to an old acquaintance, Detective Munch, who worked with Manhattan SVU. Munch had more experience dealing with those types of cases and therefore over the years, he'd been able to compile quite a bit of information on some such groups.

He had passed some names along to Bobby on the promise that we wouldn't be outing any of them because he felt that the majority of the time the people in these groups were doing good, and I couldn't disagree.

"How are we going to be able to determine which group helped Paul Jennings?" I asked him before he had a chance to talk. "And that's even assuming that a group _did_ help him, which is a pretty big assumption. I mean, we're working on complete conjecture and supposition here. Hell, we don't even know that Paul took the boy at all or even if…"

"Alex," he interrupted.

"What?" I asked in annoyance.

I'd been trying to make a point, and yet he didn't want to let me finish.

"What's going on?" he asked softly. He grabbed my hand and ran his thumb over the knuckles. "You're tense and moody and distracted…are you still thinking about Cathy? We can go over there again if you want."

"Why does it have to be something _else_ that's bothering me? Why can't it just be that I don't like being interrupted? I mean, I had a point to make, Bobby, and yet you just jumped, in thinking that you know what I was going to say, and now…now…"

And I stopped.

I was being ridiculous.

To his credit, he waited. I could tell by the stern look on his face that he was only going to take so much more of my unprovoked tantrum. But for now, he was biting his tongue.

"Now what?" he asked carefully in a low measured tone.

What had I been railing about? That he'd interrupted in order to express concern? That he was trying to tell me that it was okay to table the work discussion if I had something else on my mind?

"Bobby," I said on a sigh. "I'm…"

I paused and brought my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I felt a major headache coming on.

"I'm sorry," I said at last, dropping my hand and raising my eyes to look at him again. "I'm just…I _hate_ this. I _really_ hate this. I feel so powerless to do anything about _anything_."

"You're not powerless," he argued gently. "You have control of your life."

"Do I? Do I have control over what Cathy does? Or Travis? Or this A.J. woman?"

"You have control of _you_."

I stared at him hard, willing away my anger that was so very misplaced.

"Let's go home," he said. "We can take our files with us and work on it later if we feel like it."

"Yeah?"

"If you want to."

If _I _wanted to.

I loved him for the effort if nothing else.

And of course, I loved him for _everything_ else.

"Okay. Let's go."

An hour later, I was in sweatpants and one of Bobby's t-shirts, sitting on the couch drinking a vodka martini. We'd left the house dark and silent, choosing to sit quietly together instead of having the intrusion of the television.

"I'm sorry that I snapped at you earlier."

"You already apologized. There's no need to keep rehashing it."

I sighed heavily and took a long sip of the potent drink.

"I just feel like I'm waiting," I admitted after another few minutes of silence.

"For what?"

"I don't know specifically and that makes it even worse. And all of the possibilities that are running through my head…well, I can't do anything about them. I'm waiting for the next article where we're mentioned by name and clients stop calling. Or maybe the article triggers an actual police investigation, because you know, I actually _did_ break into Rhonda's apartment. And her house. Not all of those allegations A.J. made are so far off the mark."

"Rhonda was a criminal that we were tracking," he reminded me. "We were looking for a kidnap victim. There was a dead body in that apartment. Hell, it wasn't even _her_ apartment."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"Doesn't it?"

I could feel my adrenaline picking up again, and I really didn't want to fight, so I let the topic go.

Instead, I switched to my worry topic number one.

"And I'm waiting for that call about Cathy. He's going to hurt her again. Or she's going to lose her job because she'll show up high. Or both."

He nodded thoughtfully and ran his hand over my hair. He couldn't argue with me on that one.

We both knew that I was right.

"I just feel like everything around us is spiraling out of control," I said sadly.

"Everything _around_ us," he repeated as he took the glass from my hand and reached over to set it on the coffee table. "But not us. Nothing can touch us."

He turned back toward me and ran his hand across my thigh as he leaned over to kiss me.

It was slow and thorough and passion-inspiring because in all honesty, prior to his kiss, sex had been about the furthest thing from my mind, but as he expertly worked his lips over mine, I was suddenly overcome by need.

He must have sensed my change in mood because after a moment, he deepened the kiss and his hand made its way beneath my t-shirt.

The gentle sensation of his hand caressing my skin helped to push all other thoughts from my mind.

And that was probably why he'd started this. Making love with him would recharge my batteries, so to speak. It would give my mind a much-needed break from everything else.

And really, he had a point.

No matter what was going on with everything else, we had each other.

How could I forget that? Was I already taking him for granted after only being with him for six months?

I couldn't let that happen.

I reminded myself of how I'd felt before Bobby and I had gotten together. Of all of the nights that I'd spent alone, wishing he was with me.

I gently pushed on his shoulder until he shifted, laying back onto the couch and pulling me with him.

"I'm sorry," I said again when I finally released his lips and then began kissing along his jaw.

"Alex…"

"Not for earlier. I'm sorry for taking you for granted. I'm sorry that I forgot what's important," I said softly as I continued to move my lips over his stubbled cheek and up across his forehead. "This is what's important. You and me. Everything else is just secondary."

He'd been running his hands up and down my back, but at my statement, he squeezed me tightly against him.

I took a moment to just enjoy the feel of his strong arms around me, the hardness of his firm muscles beneath me.

"I love you," I whispered. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he answered, his voice low and rumbling.

He slid his hands beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, running them over my backside.

And suddenly, I couldn't wait any longer.

I sat up and pulled off my shirt, casually tossing it over the back of the couch.

His hands stilled as his gaze settled on the newly-bared skin.

He always looked at me with such adoration, always made me feel so cherished.

He brought his hands up, skimming along my sides and across my chest.

"My beautiful Alex," he murmured. His words and his voice filled me with emotion.

I was verging on the point of desperation.

I _needed _to feel him inside of me.

I needed that connection, that tangible bond of togetherness.

I tugged on his shirt, silently asking him to take it off, and then we worked together to remove the remaining clothing until at last we were finally down to skin on skin.

It had only been a day, and yet it felt like so much longer.

And as I moved over him, ready to take him in completely, my urgency was suddenly gone.

I didn't want to rush it. I didn't want to race to the end, just for the sake of the ending itself.

I wanted to feel every glorious second of it.

I settled down onto him slowly, taking him in inch by inch until he was finally fully within.

We let out a collective moan, each of us appreciating the feel of the other as though it was the first time.

I trailed my fingers across his chest, grazing him lightly with my fingernails, and then I leaned down and kissed him, a long drawn-out expression of everything that I was feeling.

After several minutes, I finally broke the kiss. Bobby's hands had been resting on my thighs, holding them as though he was afraid to let go, but when I released his lips, he slowly eased his hands upward until they settled on my hips.

And only then did I start to move.

I let him set the pace, his hands guiding me into a methodical, unhurried rhythm.

It didn't escape my notice that he was giving me the power by being in this position, and yet I was giving it back to him by letting him dictate the speed of my movements.

We were too closely intertwined for it to matter. I didn't want control over him and he didn't need it over me. It was about mutual give and take.

His fingers gripped me tighter, holding me firmly as his movements became more purposeful.

We continued on and on, slowly loving each other, leisurely enjoying each other's body, until at last, I couldn't take it any more.

Heat flooded my cheeks and my toes began to tingle, and all I could think was _more, harder, faster…_and even though I didn't say a word, he complied all the same until suddenly, I was right there, tumbling over the edge.

And this time, I was the quiet one, choosing instead to bite my lip and hold it in, but Bobby shouted out my name..._loudly_…loud enough for the neighbors to sit up and take notice, but I just couldn't find it in me anywhere to care.

In fact, I loved that I had brought him to that level of ecstasy.

That _we_ had brought ourselves to that level.

I settled down onto his chest, completely sated and out of breath.

"That was…" I began, having no idea how to finish the statement.

Words didn't do it justice.

"Yes it was," he replied.

"And you were loud," I teased.

"I…was, yeah," he said on a chuckle. "I couldn't help myself."

"Good."

Neither of us moved for several minutes, choosing instead to just enjoy the moment.

But then, of course, there was a knock on the door.

"Are you kidding me?" I mumbled into his chest. "I didn't think you were that loud. And I mean, come on, it's not like we were continuously loud."

"I'll deal with it," he said.

We reluctantly got up from our comfortable spot on the couch, and each of us quickly got dressed. Bobby had been in sweatpants, too, and I couldn't help but appreciate how nice his ass looked in them as he headed for the front door.

The man could pull off a t-shirt and sweats just as easily as he could a thousand dollar suit.

He cast a glance over his shoulder at me, presumably to be sure that I was decent, and then he checked the peephole.

"Alex," he said, and his voice held enough concern that I hustled to join him at the door. "It's Cathy."

He pulled the door open, and there was my sister.

She had mascara running in streaks down her cheeks, her hair was a mess, and she was wearing a pair of scrubs.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you guys, but I just…I wasn't sure where else to go."

She continued to stand in the hall until I took hold of her arm and pulled her into the apartment.

"What happened?"

"I…you were right," she said. "And I left him."

"Travis? Did he hit you again?"

I'd already done a visual scan of every bit of exposed skin in search of fresh bruising, but I hadn't found any.

She nodded and wiped her hand across her nose.

"Show me," I said as the anger boiled up inside of me. Cathy gave a sidelong glance to Bobby, but made no move to show me her injuries.

"I'll go put on some coffee," Bobby said, leaving us alone in the living room.

Once he was gone, she pulled up her shirt.

The sight of mottled skin across her ribcage caused a mixture of emotions to roll through me.

I wanted to kill Travis. The bastard had hit her there so that it wouldn't be so obvious. That was a classic batterer's tactic, and it told me that he probably wasn't new to the game.

I wanted to cry for Cathy.

I wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her that it would all be okay.

But I was also leery. She'd done this before. She'd called me the last time he'd hit her and then three days later, she'd gone back to him. She'd started doing drugs.

I settled for a reaction that was a blend of my myriad of gut responses.

I hugged her, gently, mindful of how painful her ribs might be, and I told her that I would help her.

"But you have to do this my way," I said firmly. "You have to press charges, you have to stay away from him, and you can't be doing drugs."

"I know," she replied, a fresh flood of tears filling her eyes. "I'm not…addicted or anything, I just…did them sometimes, because Travis said that it would…it would make the sex better."

"You don't have any on you now?" I questioned. "Because we might not still be officially law enforcement, but we're close enough. And we have lots of cop friends, so…"

"I don't. I promise."

"Okay. When did this happen? It looks pretty fresh. Was it just tonight?"

"Yeah. A couple of hours ago. I tried to check into a hotel, but then I found out that Steve had canceled all of my credit cards. And Travis had taken my cash, so…I don't have any money, and I don't have anywhere to go…can I stay here? Just for a few days until I can get back on my feet?"

"Of course," I told her, sure that Bobby would be okay with this development. He had a strong sense of family, and I knew that he would never turn her away. "You get a good night's sleep, and in the morning, I'm going to take you to a friend to get those ribs checked out. Have you coughed up any blood, or had trouble catching your breath?"

"No, I'm okay. It's just sore."

"Okay," I said with a nod, and then I led her down the hall to the small den. It had a desk and some unpacked boxes, but it also had a futon.

I grabbed some sheets and blankets from the linen closet, and then because she didn't have anything with her other than a purse, I also went into my room and grabbed some clothes for her to sleep in.

"Get some rest," I told her as I handed her the pajamas and the bedding. "We'll take care of everything in the morning, okay?"

"Thanks, Alex," she said, still sniffling.

"Is she okay?" Bobby asked me quietly when I went back into the living room.

I continued moving towards him until we were toe to toe, and I slipped my arms around his waist, putting my cheek flat against the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

"For now," I answered. "I'm going to get Liz to take x-rays in the morning. And pictures. I want this documented."

"It still has to be her choice to file charges."

"I know. She said that she will."

"This is part of what you were waiting for, huh?" he asked as he stroked his hand over my hair.

"Yeah. And I guess it could've been a whole lot worse. Maybe she's actually ready to fix her life."

"Maybe."

"You don't think so?"

"I don't know," he admitted, exhaling a heavy sigh. "I guess time will tell."

Yes it would. But I would be patient.

Because, like I said, I had Bobby.

Everything else was just secondary.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Cathy POV**

* * *

I'd had to swallow every ounce of my pride, but in the end it had been just about my only option.

I couldn't go to Mom and Dad. As far as I knew, they were still in the dark about most of what was going on with me.

And there was no way I was going to Kevin's. He had a quicker temper than Alex and a great deal less tolerance. And again, I was pretty sure that he didn't know much about Travis beyond the fact that we were dating.

Sean knew.

He'd left me several messages over the course of the past week, ranging from pissed off to pleading in an effort to get me to return his calls.

But I'd ignored him. I wished that Alex hadn't told him, but I wasn't too surprised. The two of them were the closest of any of us. I'd always envied them their relationship.

Of course, I'd envied just about everything about Alex, so that was no great revelation.

And when Bobby had opened the door, I was face to face with yet another in the long line of things that Alex had done better than me.

Her perfect husband.

Or rather, perfect husband number two.

How was it fair that she'd run across two Mr. Rights while I'd toiled with Mr. So-So and Mr. Right Now?

But I hadn't gone to her place to express jealousy or bitterness.

I just needed a roof over my head, and possibly a shoulder to cry on.

And I credited Alex for not saying _I told you so_ when I showed her the fresh bruises. She was properly sympathetic and didn't hesitate to agree to put me up.

But she did, of course, lay down a short list of demands.

"You have to press charges, you have to stay away from him, and you can't be doing drugs."

I agreed, and then I tried not to be insulted when she asked if I had drugs on me.

Because in all honesty, if I could've gotten my hands on a joint, I would've smoked it just to relax.

But for the most part, I usually avoided drugs. I hadn't been lying about that. Travis had encouraged me to do the coke, and it had been fun to amp things up a bit, but it wasn't something I wanted to do on a regular basis.

I told her about Steve canceling my credit cards and Travis stealing my cash.

And that was _mostly_ true.

I'd actually given Travis my cash in an effort to stave off a fight.

He'd come home, upset about something that had happened at work. He'd gotten into trouble and his boss had given him two days of unpaid suspension. He was going on and on about how much that was going to hurt his bank account, and so I'd offered him my money.

I'd said that since I was living there, I should help out with the rent.

I didn't want it to seem like I was trying to give him a handout, but my timing had been bad and he'd gone through the roof.

He'd said, amongst other things, that he didn't need my charity.

Of course, as he'd said it, he'd shoved the bills into his pocket.

An hour later when the fight had reached toxic levels, I'd grabbed my purse and bolted for the door. I knew that even though I didn't have any cash, I could use my plastic to get a hotel room.

But then that was when I'd learned about Steve's little surprise. My cards were all useless.

So that was how I'd ended up here, sleeping on my sister's futon in her tiny little den.

I'd listened to the two of them talking, their hushed voices a mere rumble in the darkness.

I couldn't make out their words, but I could guess.

_Poor, fucked up Cathy. She's ruined her whole life._

That would be Alex.

And then Bobby would say, _how did your parents raise you to be so wonderful and her to be so pathetic?_

And then Alex would giggle and…no, wait.

Alex didn't giggle.

Ever.

Alex would simply smile at him and say…I have no idea what she'd say. I'd barely spent any time with her and Bobby since they'd become a couple.

And now I was annoyed with myself for being so bitter and hateful toward my sister and her husband who had opened their home to me.

I'd been asking Alex to be happy for me, just because I was happy and yet I couldn't be happy for her.

I was a fucking hypocrite.

And Alex was right. I _was_ throwing my life away.

I made up my mind to get my act together. I had a son who was rapidly becoming a stranger, and he needed to be my first priority.

I drifted off to sleep, thinking of Nate and planning my resurrection.

"Cathy."

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, shaking me slightly in an effort to rouse me from sleep.

"What time is it?" I asked immediately.

The room was still dark and I felt completely disoriented.

"Six-thirty," Alex replied. "We need to leave a little after seven. I don't want to throw Liz off schedule with her work day."

"Liz?"

"Dr. Rodgers. She's a friend, and she'll take a look at your ribs," she explained. "Go ahead and take a shower. I put some clothes on the bathroom counter for you, and after we see Liz, maybe we'll go by Travis' place and get your stuff."

She left me alone again, and I managed to get up from the futon. It was probably a good thing that I'd be seeing a doctor because everything hurt. I took my time in the shower, letting the hot water soothe my pain, and then I got dressed in Alex's clothes. `

We were roughly the same size, but it still felt weird wearing her things. We didn't have the same sense of fashion.

But I wasn't going to complain.

I also wasn't planning on going by Travis' place because since he'd been suspended, I had a good feeling that he'd be there and I didn't want to have to deal with him today.

I went out into the kitchen and stood quietly in the doorway for a moment watching Alex and Bobby while they seamlessly went through what must be their morning routine.

And then, after Alex set the coffee pot back on its burner, Bobby pulled her against him and kissed her firmly, repeatedly, going back for more again and again as though he just couldn't get enough of her. In between the barrage of kisses, she was smiling.

I watched a moment longer, and then I cleared my throat loudly.

"You're ready?" Alex asked me after she reluctantly moved away from her husband's grasp.

Damn, she really looked happy and so did he.

And instead of the usual feeling of resentment, I just felt sad and a sense of longing for what I'd had that I'd thrown away.

Because there was something easy and comforting about being in sync with another person.

I'd had that once.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "Let's go."

Her friend, Dr. Rodgers, turned out to be a medical examiner.

That fact probably would've really creeped me out if I didn't work in the medical profession, but since I did, I found the morgue to be fascinating.

I'd been in one on occasion, sometimes having to transport some unlucky soul out of the ER, but I hadn't spent much time looking around, so while we waited for the x-rays to develop, and while Alex slipped out of the room to make a phone call, Liz gave me the tour.

"You remind me of Bobby," she said on a laugh after I'd asked my umpteenth question.

"Really?"

"His is an inquisitive mind," she said with an affectionate grin. "Apparently yours is, too."

The timer went off, and I followed her behind the screen to check the films.

"It's nice of you to take the time to do this," I told her. "You and Alex must be close."

Carolyn _and_ Liz. Alex's best friends. And of course she had Bobby. And Carolyn's husband Mike. And surely there were others, like that cop who had arrested Travis.

Why was it that she seemed to be friends with everyone but me?

"She's a good friend," she agreed with a nod. "I'd do just about anything for her."

She held the film up in front of the light box and then pointed.

"Right there," she said quietly. "It's not displaced, but there is definitely a crack."

_Fucking Travis_. It hadn't been enough for him to just hit me. He'd had to kick me when I was down.

"You're not going to ask what happened?" I questioned as I stood entranced by x-ray.

"No," she replied. "Although I can probably take a pretty good guess. You've got what appears to be boot tread pattern on your side."

I glanced across the room and saw that Alex was still standing just outside the door, with the phone to her ear.

"You're probably wondering how someone like her is related to someone like me."

"Now why in the world would you say that?"

"Look at her. She's so…together. And I'm so not."

"She's been through a lot," Liz said firmly. "A _lot_. And she's fought tooth and nail to get to where she's at in life, and for you to act as though it just fell into her lap by the grace of God is just…wrong. And insulting."

She looked at me with an unwavering gaze and I wasn't sure how to respond.

"So some guy knocked you around," she continued. "Then do something about it. Leave him. Press charges. It's not rocket science. And if Alex is trying to help you, let her help you. There's nothing wrong with accepting a little assistance now and then."

I sighed and walked back into the main part of the room. Liz clicked off the light box and pulled down the film and then pulled a roll of medical tape from a cabinet.

"I'll tape your ribs," she said. "It'll help."

She motioned for me to pull up my shirt, so I did, allowing her access to tightly wrap my injured side.

"It just seems that it's always me who needs help."

"You think Alex never gets into trouble?"

"Does she?"

"Of course. Who doesn't?"

I thought about that for a minute, and then sucked in a sharp breath as she used both of her hands to mold the tape to my body.

I wanted to ask more questions, but that was when Alex came back into the room. I stood to the side while the two of them shared a conversation.

"How does it look?" she asked.

"Cracked," Liz told her. "It's going to hurt like hell for a while, but it could've been worse. Ibuprofen should help some."

"Thanks for checking her out. I hope we didn't throw off your schedule."

"Any word on that Hemmings woman?"

"Not yet. Carolyn's still working it. I'll keep you posted."

We said our goodbyes, and I followed Alex out of the morgue.

"I guess I'm keeping you from work this morning, huh?" I asked her as we got into the car.

"It's fine. We took some files home with us, so Bobby's already working."

"How is the business going?" I asked tentatively. I realized that she'd been doing this new job for more than a month and I'd never once asked her.

"It's good. Busy. And challenging."

"And how is that different from the NYPD?"

"I don't have a boss," she answered with a shrug. "Otherwise, not much."

"It's a big risk though, isn't it? I mean, what happens if the business fails?"

"Sometimes you have to take a risk, or you never get anywhere. Otherwise, if you always keep things at the status quo, you never know how much better you could have it."

"Or worse," I countered. "It could get worse."

_Like when you leave your stable husband and hook up with a guy who beats the crap out of you_.

"It could," she agreed. "That's why it's called a risk. But if it gets worse, then you just have to try something else until you find the thing that works."

She parked the car, and I looked around, not having paid any attention to where we were going.

We were at the courthouse.

"What's here?"

"Another friend," she said as she unbuckled and got out of the car. "Come on."

"Who?" I asked her. I hustled to catch up to her as she climbed the front steps.

"An ADA. She has a restraining order and an arrest warrant ready. You just have to sign off on the charges."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Alex took five more steps before she realized that I wasn't behind her, and she turned around.

"What?" she asked.

"A restraining order?"

"He might get bail, and you don't want him to try to come after you. It's pretty much SOP with these kinds of cases."

"Alex, I'm not a case!" I yelled, not caring that there were dozens of other people milling around. "And you didn't say anything about a restraining order."

"Cathy, it's the right thing to do. You want to get your life together? This is the first step."

"It just seems so…I don't know. Harsh."

"You have boot tread imprinted on your side," she reminded me sharply. "_That's_ harsh. This is justice. Or at least the beginning of it."

I knew that she was right, but it felt like things were spinning out of control.

This was my _life_.

When had I become _that_ woman? The one whom I'd treated in the ER for bruises who then swore that she'd run into a door or fallen down the stairs?

"Cathy…"

"Okay," I said quickly. "Okay, you're right. Let's do this."

I'd get a restraining order and I'd have him arrested.

That way, I could quit thinking about Travis, and I'd be able to focus on what was important.

Re-establishing my relationship with my son.

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Bobby POV **

* * *

Friday morning, while Alex took Cathy to see Liz, I stayed home. I'd decided to work from there while they were gone, and then once Alex brought Cathy back, she and I could go into the office.

So I spread the documentation out on the kitchen table and grabbed a cup of coffee and then sat down to work. Of course, that's when the phone rang.

"Goren," I answered without checking the ID.

"Bobby, it's Steve. Is Alex there?"

"No, she's…um…not," I said, settling with ambiguity rather than a lie.

I wasn't going to mention Cathy simply because I didn't want to get sucked into the middle of it.

"I can have her call you when she gets back," I offered.

"No, I was just wondering if she knew where Cathy is staying. I called her cell phone, and that asshole Travis answered, but he said that she'd moved out and she'd just left her phone behind by accident."

"Oh. Well, she's…" I paused again as I analyzed what harm could come from telling the truth. Steve wasn't the bad guy in all of this. He wasn't stalking her or harassing her, so what difference should it make? "She came here last night. She's staying with us right now."

"Oh, okay. Good," he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "I was just worried about her. I mean, I have some papers that I need to get to her, but I was also really, really concerned."

"You can drop them off here," I answered. "I'll be around this morning."

I could only guess that he was referring to divorce papers. Surely that was the next step for him, and maybe it was a good thing.

Maybe a stark dose of reality would help make Cathy wake up and smell the coffee.

I hung up with Steve and focused again on the notes that Munch had given me.

I'd been cross-checking the names that he'd provided against the DMV database to see if any of them had driven a station wagon ten years ago.

It was a long shot, but detective work was all about running down leads.

Yesterday, I'd compared the list of names with the flight manifest.

That was what I had been ready to tell Alex when we'd gotten sidetracked.

There were no exact matches, but a couple of them struck me as potential aliases.

People aren't normally very creative when it comes to developing an alter ego and if you know what to look for, often times you can flesh it out.

And I know what to look for.

But so I perused through the DMV database and jotted down the vehicles that had been registered to all of the names on my list.

Then I checked through vital records to find if there were spouses for any of the names, and then searched the records to see what types of vehicles _those_ people had.

It was tedious work, but it's all part of the game.

Time passed a little more quickly than I realized though because it felt like I had just hung up the phone with Steve when I heard a knock on the door.

"Bobby, it's good to see you!" Steve said enthusiastically when I opened the door.

He had always been very friendly to me, even back when Alex and I were just partners.

Although, had we ever really been _just_ partners?

I forced the random thought from my head and returned his greeting.

"How's Nate?" I asked.

"He's doing great. He asked about you last night. He said you read the story better than I do," he said on a chuckle. "Something about you doing better voices?"

"Well, tell him that I'll try to come by tomorrow night," I suggested. When we were in town, Alex liked to see him once a week or so.

"So, how's Cathy?"

"She's okay," I replied noncommittally. "Actually, she'll probably be back pretty soon…"

"Yeah, okay," he said, quickly catching on to my meaning. It wasn't that I cared if he was here, but I had a feeling that he didn't want to run into her. He pulled an envelope from his briefcase and handed it to me. "Can you make sure that she gets this?"

"I will," I promised. "Is it what I think it is?"

He gave me a nod and then looked down at his feet briefly before returning his gaze to mine.

"I don't want to," he admitted. "But she hasn't left me much choice."

"She may be ready to get herself together," I said. "She might surprise you."

"Maybe," he said skeptically. "And I'm not saying never. I'm just saying not right now."

"I understand."

And I did. She'd put him through the wringer, and he had a son to raise. He had to keep moving forward and do what was best for Nate.

"So um…any time you guys want to come over, you know that you're both always welcome."

"Thanks," I said, shaking his hand. "I appreciate that. I'll…um…I'll give you a call tomorrow, okay? We'll take Nate somewhere."

"That sounds good," he agreed.

He'd been gone for ten minutes when Alex and Cathy got back, and I could hear them bickering before they even came through the door.

"It's not a good idea," Alex was saying. "Give it some time."

"Time? It's been too long already!"

"Yes, but that's on you. You can't just fix everything at the drop of a hat because you've suddenly decided that you want things to be different. He's six years old!"

Ah. Nate.

The door flung open and the two of them came into the apartment, and for a moment, I flashed onto what life in the Eames household must have been like back when these two were teenagers.

"You think I don't know how old my own kid is?" Cathy yelled back.

"I think there's a lot you don't know about him," Alex fired back. "Do you know how fast they change at this age? You've been ignoring him for weeks!"

"That's what I'm trying to change!" Cathy shouted in frustration.

"And all I'm saying is that you can't make it happen over night," Alex retorted.

The two of them had come into the kitchen by this point. I got up from the table and Alex instinctively circled around to stand next to me. I'm sure that she didn't give much thought to the motion, but Cathy took it as a bully tactic.

"And now you're going to pull Bobby into this, right? Two on one against poor, little Cathy."

I opened my mouth to respond, but Alex beat me to it.

"I don't have to bring Bobby into it. I'm right, and you know it. How many people do you need to tell you the same damn thing?"

"How can you be so sure that he'll say the same thing? Maybe he agrees with me," Cathy suggested.

And suddenly, they were both looking at me.

Judging from the look on Alex's face, it was a damn good thing that I _did_ agree with her because there was no decision to make about honesty versus backing up my wife.

Although, that wouldn't be much of a choice anyway.

I'd always back her up.

If it meant that I had to lie to do it, then she and I would just discuss it later.

"I'm guessing that you want to go see Nate," I said calmly, hoping that they would bring their voices down to match mine.

"She wants to take him for the weekend," Alex clarified.

"Definitely not a good idea," I said. "You should re-introduce yourself gradually. It won't take long, but you really don't want to rush it."

"That's great, Bobby," Cathy said snidely. "Do you have any balls at all, or does Alex keep them in a jar on the mantle?"

"Hey!" Alex barked out as she rounded the table to stand in front of her sister. "Keep it up, Cathy, and you can find another place to sleep!"

"He's only saying that because he's taking up for you!"

"I'm _saying _it," I shouted, and then I forced myself to lower my voice. "Because it's the _truth. _Don't ask me if you don't want to hear it."

The wind went out of her sails for a minute as the three of us stood in the otherwise-quiet room.

"You're right," she said at last. "I'm sorry. I…maybe I'll just see if I can pick Nate up for an hour or two."

Alex ran her hand through her hair and then looked at me apologetically. I nodded at her encouragingly.

"Start with a phone call," Alex said, turning back to Cathy. "Do that for a few days and then build up to a brief visit."

Cathy sighed and walked over to the table to sit down.

"What's this?" she asked, picking up the envelope from Steve that had been lying on the table in front of where she now sat.

"Steve dropped it off," I told her.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"You've been home five minutes," I reminded her quickly. I didn't want to make Alex stand up for me again. Besides, Cathy's hot and cold act was wearing thin and I'd had about enough of her. "And you've been yelling since you walked through the door. When exactly was I supposed to tell you?"

She just stared at me for a minute and then shook her hand and opened the envelope.

I caught Alex's gaze again, and she came back around the table to where I sat. She ran her hand across my back and then leaned down to give me a kiss.

"Any luck?" she asked me, tipping her head toward the scattering of paperwork on the table, and pointedly ignoring Cathy.

"Maybe," I said. "I found one lady at this place called…"

"What the hell is this?" Cathy shouted, interrupting our conversation. I looked up to find her glaring at me. "Did you know about this? Did you and Steve have a nice little buddy-buddy discussion about this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cathy, you need to settle down," Alex warned. "Whatever is going on between you and Steve is just that. Between you two."

"No, I don't think so. Otherwise, why would he be doing this?"

"Doing what?" Alex asked in exasperation. I was sure that she, like me, assumed that the papers were simply part of the divorce proceeding.

Cathy stood up and slammed the papers onto the table.

"He's petitioning for divorce."

"And that's a surprise? You've been living with someone else for weeks!"

"And," Cathy said sharply. "He's asking for sole custody. He's citing me for abandonment."

_Well, if the shoe fits…_

"You did this, didn't you?" she accused Alex. "That's why you were saying earlier that I shouldn't try to see Nate. You told Steve to keep him away from me."

"I didn't know," Alex told her. "But I did tell Steve about the drugs."

"What? Alex!"

"I had to! What if you'd gotten high and then gone to pick up Nate? I had to let him know about it!"

"I'm not a drug addict! Shit, Alex, and now Steve's going to use that against me! He's probably going to call my own fucking sister to testify against me!"

"Cathy, I'm sure that Steve doesn't want to be doing this, and if you get your life back on track, he's not going to keep you from seeing Nate. He knows that the boy needs his mother."

"I can't believe this," Cathy murmured, shaking her head. "I cannot believe this. You act like you're helping me but at the same time, you're ratting me out!"

"Cathy…"

"No! You know what? Fuck you. I didn't think it was too much to ask my own sister to support me, but apparently it is, so you just live your fucking perfect Cinderella life with your fucking Prince Charming…"

"Hey!" I shouted as I got up from my chair. "That's enough! I've listened to all I'm going to take! Alex has done nothing but try to help you, and you've been insulting and accusatory and basically acting like a goddamn two-year-old! Now you need to grow the hell up! And if you can't treat your family any better than you're doing right now, then you can get the hell out!"

"You…you want me to leave?"

"No," I said, sighing heavily and running my hand over my face. "No. I want you to face reality and stop acting like a spoiled brat. You got yourself into this mess. We're trying to help you get out of it. But I'm not going to put up with any more of your crap. You got it?"

"I got it," she said, flopping heavily back into the kitchen chair.

I took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to regain my self-control, and then I felt Alex's hand on my back again.

I glanced at her, half expecting her to be upset with me for going off on her sister, but she wasn't. She gave me a look that said she was anything but upset.

"Good," I replied firmly. "Steve's papers don't change anything. I'm sure that he'll let you talk to Nate any time you want to call. So this afternoon, after he gets home from school, call him. And just talk for a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay. I got it," she said again.

I held her gaze for a long minute while my blood pressure slowly went back to normal, and then I got up and started gathering the papers from the table.

"You guys are going to work?" Cathy asked.

"I told you that," Alex replied, still clearly annoyed with her.

"Okay. I'll…um…I'll cook something for dinner tonight, okay?"

A peace offering. She was trying, I could tell, but man did she need to learn how to better control her temper.

"We don't always work normal hours," Alex said. "I can't make any promises."

"That's fine," Cathy answered with a shrug. "No big deal either way."

Once I had all of my notes assembled and back into my binder, Alex and I left the apartment. As soon as the door was closed behind us, she touched me on the arm, stopping my motion.

"Bobby, the way you talked to her…" she began, and then she trailed off, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry if I made you mad, Alex, but she had it coming. You know she did."

"Made me mad?" she asked me with a confused look on her face. "Um…no."

She reached up and grabbed a handful of my shirt, pulling me down for a scorching kiss. After not nearly long enough, she let me go and took a step back from me.

"So…me yelling made you hot?" I asked her as we continued down the hall.

I was really glad that Alex didn't seem to be letting the recent blowout bring her down. In fact, it was almost as though letting off steam and saying what needed to be said had vastly improved her outlook.

"You doing anything makes me hot," she answered in a low tone. "But yeah, you standing up for me and telling my sister what she needed to hear…very sexy. You could've taken the easy way out and let me deal with her, but you didn't."

"You think I could've walked away when she was talking to you like she was?"

"No. Most men, definitely. You, never. You're one of a kind, Bobby."

"Yeah?"

"A regular Prince Charming," she said, flashing me a smile.

"No, a _fucking_ Prince Charming," I corrected with a smirk.

She barked out a laugh as she pushed the button for the elevator. Then she grabbed my shirt again and gave me another kiss.

"Well, that _is_ the best kind."

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby and I worked for the better part of the day on the Jennings case, and by the end of the afternoon, I felt like we were really on to something.

There was a woman by the name of Helen Chambers who had a home in lower Manhattan.

Ten years ago, the week of the kidnapping, she'd rented a green Volvo station wagon, the same make and model of Paul Jennings' vehicle.

According to Munch, Helen ran an organization called PTI out of the basement of her home.

Protecting the Innocent.

She had a web of volunteers who helped take in battered women and their children and then helped them get a fresh start on life, somewhere away from their abuser.

It worked like a chain, and each link in the chain only knew the next link.

One oddity in this case was that the name on the manifest which had piqued Bobby's interest was Ellen Chalmers. It was too similar to Helen's name not to at least ring a bell.

But why would she have been the one to fly the boy to London?

There should have been various links in the chain, and if she'd been the one to pick him up from school, then she shouldn't have been the one to fly with him.

Of course, this was assuming we were anywhere close to the truth on this one.

It could still be that the boy had been taken by an unknown assailant.

Aside from that, we wanted to tread carefully.

Bobby had promised not to blow the whistle on anyone, but in addition to that, I really believed in what these women were doing.

I've worked for the system long enough to know that sometimes the system didn't work.

And in cases of domestic abuse, _a lot_ of times it didn't work.

The only catch here was that the members of PTI were taking the abused at their word.

And surely sometimes, the stories were lies.

But I didn't think so in this case.

So if Paul Jennings _did _kidnap Adam in order to protect him from his mother, and Helen Chambers _did_ help him by providing him false identification and money to start over, then I was just about ready to close the book on the case and tell Brooke Jennings that we'd come up empty.

That was one nice thing about working for ourselves rather than the NYPD. I could put on the brakes at any time. I didn't have to answer to a captain or a DA. If we thought no more investigative work needed to be done, we could just let it go.

It was nearly six o'clock when we began gathering our things. Carolyn popped her head into Bobby's office.

"I'm going to head down to D.C. in the morning," she said.

"Did you get a hit on Hemmings?"

"Maybe. Anna Hemmings opened a bank account today in Georgetown."

"I'm guessing that Anna is the A in A.J.?"

"Uh huh. The social security number is different, but my gut says that it's her."

"Did you get a description?"

"Close enough to make it worth the trip," she replied with a nod. "How are you two coming?"

"We're getting there. Although if it works out like we think, we might have to tell the client that we're unable to resolve the case. Are you okay with that?"

I asked out of respect rather than necessity. We'd all decided when we first started this job that decisions such as these were up to each individual investigator. No one of us would second guess any one else.

"It'll be better for the kid?"

"Yeah."

"Then absolutely. How's Cathy doing?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"It depends on the minute. Remorseful and humble one minute, hateful and self-pitying the next. She's been with us for a day and I'm about ready to kick her out."

"She'll come around."

"You think?" I asked dubiously.

"Either that, or you'll shoot her, right?"

"Or I will," Bobby spoke up. "Well, I would, but I think I left my balls in a jar on the mantle, didn't I, Alex?"

"What?" Carolyn asked as we started laughing.

"Don't ask," I chuckled. "So what's Mike up to?"

"He aced the case. They asked him to stay behind and be part of the press conference."

"Really? Wow, good for him. It'll be good to get some positive PR to pre-empt anything our friend Ms. Hemmings decides to report."

"Yep," she agreed. "Okay, I'm going over to the press conference. Hopefully since they wrapped up that case, Mike can go with me in the morning. I'll let you know what we find out."

Carolyn left, and we followed not too far behind.

"I wonder how the call to Nate went," I mused as I climbed in behind the wheel.

"It was good that you gave Steve a heads-up. There's enough emotion rolling around right now. No need to add surprise in there with it."

"Yeah. He seemed okay with it. I think he's afraid to get Nate's hopes up though. It's almost easier for him to not talk to her at all then to have her just pop in every once in awhile and make empty promises."

"Maybe they're not empty. Maybe she means it this time."

"We'll see."

I didn't call Cathy to tell her that Bobby and I would be late. And maybe that was rude of me since she'd said that she would be cooking dinner, but I just didn't feel the need to be considerate.

The things that she'd said to Bobby this morning…I was so glad that he was able to laugh about it now, because at the time I had literally been ready to throw her out on her ass.

She was such a roller coaster that I wasn't sure how to deal with her.

She'd been solemn when we visited Liz, then had balked when it came time for the restraining order, but I'd talked sense into her.

I'd introduced her to Connie, and she'd been affable. Excited, almost, at the prospect of taking definitive steps away from Travis and back toward Nate.

I didn't have the heart to point out to her that she should've never been stepping away from Nate no matter who she was dating.

But then she'd started in about how she wanted to pick him up and spend the weekend with him, and I'd had to burst her bubble.

The boy had been through enough lately without being jerked away from the one constant person in his life.

The petition for sole custody had surprised me, but I didn't blame Steve at all. If he didn't have something official, then he'd have trouble keeping Cathy away from Nate.

And Cathy was probably right. He'd ask for my statement against her.

I'd hate to do it, but I would.

And if she pulled herself together and proved that she could keep away from Travis, and stay drug-free, then I'd also help her get some of her parental rights reinstated.

But we were going to have to take it one step at a time.

"So what do you think about this Anna Hemmings thing?" Bobby asked me.

He put his hand over mine where it rested on my thigh. I knew that he was trying to get my mind off of Cathy, and I appreciated the effort. I was certainly going to get enough of her when we got home.

"I'm not sure. I can't figure out why she would feel the need to cover her tracks. I mean, her article was misleading, but it was mostly true. It certainly wasn't about to provoke a lawsuit, and even if it did, she's just going to pack up and leave without a trace? That's just crazy."

"Uh huh," he agreed. "And yet she's still using her name."

"If that's her."

"True. But she got a new social. That takes a little bit of savvy."

"Carolyn didn't say if that social hit on anyone else."

"I'm sure she's looking into it," he said.

"Have you talked to John this week?" I asked, changing the subject.

"No. Mike said that he went back to Albuquerque for a couple of days."

Carolyn had told me about their weekend trip and how much she liked Mary. It was a good thing because at the rate John was going, Mary would be family before too much longer.

"Steve told me that he's planning to take Nate down to Maryland when he gets his spring break," I said, bringing the topic back around to what was foremost on my mind.

"Just the two of them?"

"Yeah. He thought it would do Nate some good to get away."

"Steve, too, probably," he added.

By this time, we'd arrived at our apartment, so I found a place to park and we headed upstairs.

When we got there, the apartment smelled of spaghetti. I knew for a fact that Cathy was a sub-par cook at best, but I hoped that she could at least properly boil the pasta and open a jar of sauce because I was starving.

"I already ate," she called to us from the living room.

"It smells good," Bobby said, but then he glanced at me and shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.

It actually smelled a bit like maybe she'd burned something.

"How did your phone call go?" I asked her, chucking Bobby and then shedding my coat and walking into the living room.

"It was fine. A little strange. I'm not sure that he knew what to say to me."

"He probably didn't. That's your job. Did you ask him about school?"

"Of course I did," she said, instantly offended. "He answered me with one or two words."

"It'll get better. Are you going to call him again tomorrow?"

"Tonight. Steve said I could call back just before his bedtime."

"Good," I said with a nod. "See, he's not trying to be the bad guy, Cathy. He's just trying…"

"I know," she interrupted in irritation. "He's trying to do what's best for Nate. I get it."

"Do you?"

"I said I did, okay?" she shot back. Then she sighed deeply and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. If you don't mind, I think I'm going to take a bath. That'll give you and Bobby some time alone."

She didn't wait for my response, but instead got up and went down the hall. For some reason, I had the insane urge to stick out my tongue at her, but I didn't. I went back into the kitchen where Bobby was scooping odd-looking spaghetti onto a plate.

"What the hell happened to it?" I whispered.

"I have no idea. It looks like maybe she cooked the pasta for an hour or two. It's all…pasty."

"That figures," I grumbled. "I'm starving."

"There's some leftover Kung Pao chicken in the refrigerator," he offered enticingly. "She doesn't have to know…"

So we tossed two plates worth of spaghetti down the garbage disposal and ate the Chinese food, cold and straight out of the container.

"She's not going to like Steve taking Nate out of town," I remarked as I used my fork to battle Bobby's for the last piece of chicken.

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I'm not planning on it. I'm trying to stay out of this as much as I can. I know I keep getting pulled back in, but still…they can work out the details themselves. She's not going to want to know what I think about that trip anyway."

Bobby raised his eyebrow at me and relinquished his grip on the sought after hunk of chicken.

I stabbed it and raised it up to my lips, but then offered it to him instead. He bit off half of it, leaving the rest for me.

"And you think…"

"I think that Steve earned the right to make decisions like that without consulting her. She left them. She walked away and has barely looked back. Just because she's decided to look back now, doesn't make the rest of what she did go away."

He nodded at me, but his eyes were focused on my lips. I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand, but then he shook his head and leaned in close.

"You missed a little," he said, and then he ran his tongue across my lips. He began to pull back, but I grabbed the front of his belt and held him in place.

"Uh uh. You missed some, too," I said, rising up on my toes to kiss him. I'd meant for it to be quick, just a brief sampling, but as was often the case with us, it went from chaste to intense at an alarming rate.

The sound of the bathroom door opening finally made us pull away from each other. I quickly threw the empty carton into the trash and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge.

But I'd gotten Bobby started. Hell, I'd gotten me started, too, but I wasn't sure if Cathy was going to walk in at any second.

And then we heard the door to the den close.

Bobby took the bottles from my hand and set them down and then trapped me up against the counter.

"Do I still get to make love to you, even with Cathy in the house?" he asked as he pulled back the collar of my blouse in order to expose more of my neck. He worked his mouth over the skin while he pushed his hips into mine.

"You even have to ask?"

"You'll have to be quiet."

"I can be quiet," I told him with a smile. "Can you?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I woke up Saturday morning to the sound of Alex and Cathy arguing.

I rolled over and looked at the clock to find that it was nearly nine.

I knew for a fact that Alex had still been in the bed with me at seven-thirty, so something must have happened in the previous ninety minutes that had both of them fired up.

Although, that didn't surprise me.

With the two of them, ninety seconds was all it took to have things revved up to a full-blown war.

And I couldn't blame it entirely on Cathy because I knew that Alex had a temper, but without a doubt Cathy knew how to push her buttons.

"You knew about this and you didn't tell me?" Cathy's shrill voice rang through the apartment. "You're taking his side, aren't you?"

"I'm not taking his side," Alex replied firmly.

"Well you're sure as hell not on _my_ side," Cathy retorted.

"I'm on Nate's side," Alex yelled back sharply. "And that's where you should be too! But you're too damn selfish to think of anyone but yourself."

"How can you say that? I am thinking of Nate. And it's wrong of Steve to take him away from me for a whole week!"

Ah. The spring break trip to Maryland.

I got up out of the bed and pulled on a t-shirt. I'd slept in sweatpants for a change because I wasn't comfortable with the idea of sleeping naked with Cathy in the house, so with the addition of the t-shirt, I decided that I was decent enough to go out into the rest of the apartment.

Although I wasn't sure if it was a good time or not.

"Can you even hear yourself? You've been away from him for longer than that for no reason other than you just didn't have the time or inclination to be bothered! And now, when Steve wants to do something nice for him, to get him out of the city and have some fun, you're going to try to put your foot down?"

"He didn't even ask me."

"He doesn't have to ask you. You gave up that right."

"I didn't give up anything! I just…I made a mistake. Damn, Alex, haven't you ever made a mistake in your entire perfect life?"

Yeah. It was a good time.

They were getting off topic, and they weren't going to resolve anything if Cathy kept going on the attack. She needed to remember that Alex hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, Alex was only trying to help her.

I left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen.

"Is that what this is about? Are we keeping score of mistakes that have been made?" Alex asked her, and she sounded exhausted. Frustrated. At the end of her rope.

I quickened my pace so that I could provide her some moral support.

"Maybe," Cathy retorted obstinately as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. She stopped talking when she saw me.

"Don't stop on my account," I said as I crossed the room to where Alex stood leaning against the counter. "It's not like I haven't been able to hear everything anyway."

"I'm sorry," Alex said softly to me. I leaned over and gave her a kiss and then stood next to her.

"It's okay. I needed to be up anyway."

I noticed that Cathy was dressed in her scrubs, and she'd already showered and put on some make-up.

"You have a shift today?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she replied. "I have to be there at ten."

"I'll drive you," I said.

Both women looked at me in surprise, but I didn't wait around for an answer.

Besides, it wasn't a question.

Someone had to take the lead in this thing, and it looked like that person was going to be me.

"Give me twenty minutes," I said, and then I leaned down and gave Alex another kiss, this one slightly longer, before I left the kitchen again and headed for the shower.

Cathy and I were going to have a chat.

**

* * *

**

Cathy POV

I'd been furious to learn that Steve was going to take Nate out of town. And Steve hadn't even been the one to tell me. Nate had let it slip when I'd called him this morning.

"We're going to go to the aquarium," he'd told me. "And the zoo. And they have penguins there. And polar bears. And the aquarium has sharks."

"That sounds really neat, honey," I'd said automatically, even though my brain was off and running.

Why would he take him to Baltimore?

Was he doing it to get away from me?

Was he going to just keep him and never come back?

Nate chattered away for several more minutes about their plans and then Steve got back on the line.

"I was going to tell you, Cathy," he'd said immediately.

"Just like you were going to tell me about suing for sole custody?"

"It's not like we've done a lot of talking lately."

"Oh, and I suppose that's my fault," I'd snapped. Although, even I could see that it was. But still…

"I'm not going to do this," he'd said quietly. "Not now. If you want to talk about things, then I'll get a babysitter and we can sit down like two adults and…"

"Forget it," I'd interrupted. "You've made your intentions clear."

And I'd hung up.

Then I'd proceeded to take out my mood on Alex.

"He's taking him to Baltimore," I said to her when I'd hung up.

She was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. She was in a t-shirt, one of Bobby's of course, and a pair of sleep pants.

She looked so…well-rested and…I don't know.

I'd heard them last night.

Her and Bobby.

I could tell they were trying to be quiet, but the walls were thin. I'd been unable to stop the rush of jealousy as I'd listened to the light, steady thump of the headboard against the wall and the hushed voices and I'd even heard Alex giggle.

Yeah, I know.

I would've bet money that she would never, ever do that, and yet she had.

I'd listened shamelessly and in the beginning, I'd missed Travis, but then as it went on and on and the unintelligible sound of murmured words and her obvious enthusiasm…well, then I'd ended up missing Steve.

And that idea disturbed me.

I'd even dreamed about him last night.

Not in any kind of erotic sense, but just a dream. We were a family again and we were in some little cabin in the mountains…Steve and I were nestled on a couch in front of a fire while Nate sat on the floor nearby, making a castle out of Lego's.

I'd awakened feeling a strong sense of longing, and then I'd made the call that had provided the dose of cold water.

The two of _them_ were the family.

_They_ were going on a trip.

Not to some cabin in the mountains, but still…I hadn't been invited.

"It might be good for him to get away," Alex had replied to my statement.

And she didn't fool me.

She'd already known.

"You knew about this and you didn't tell me?" I accused her. "You're taking his side, aren't you?"

Like I said, the conversation with Steve that had me in a hostile mood and she was an easy target.

We battled back and forth until Bobby made his appearance.

There was something about him that made me feel like a sheepish little girl.

I'm not sure what it was.

Maybe it was the way he looked at me which said, _I know what you're thinking_.

Maybe it was how he always, steadfastly, and without fail, sought out his wife's gaze and then proceeded to move within close proximity.

Maybe it was how _her_ whole countenance changed when she saw him.

Individually, they were each remarkable people.

I can admit that to myself, even if I don't say it out loud.

They were smart and hard-working and determined.

Together, they were a force of frightening proportions.

I don't know where I found the nerve to yell at him yesterday morning.

I couldn't believe it even as the words came out of my mouth.

But I'd been in a panic. Steve was taking my son away from me.

But Alex said that she'd help me, and I had to trust her. I needed to quit treating her like shit, though, because I wasn't sure how much longer she'd put up with it.

"I'll drive you," Bobby stated after I told him that I had a shift.

He was going to drive me to work?

He never drove anywhere.

I'd made fun of him behind closed doors to Travis.

_What_ _kind of man always lets his wife drive?_

_She must wear the pants in that family_.

And I'd believed that.

Alex was bossy and independent, and if she and Bobby got along, then it must be because he bent to her every whim.

But his tone of voice this morning had me doubting my assertion.

He didn't even wait for an affirmation, but instead, he'd kissed Alex and then left the room.

"Why is he going to drive me? I can take the subway."

"I didn't hear you arguing when he said it," she replied smartly.

"I just…I wasn't expecting it."

And for some reason, I felt a little bit afraid.

Was he going to kick me out?

Had he had enough of me arguing with Alex?

After all, I wasn't his sister.

He would be thinking first and foremost of his wife, not me.

And I had definitely, without a doubt, been being a bitch. I knew it, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

Of course, that sounded like my life story.

I knew dating Travis was a bad idea.

I knew the cocaine was a bad idea.

I knew going back to him after he hit me was a bad idea.

But I just couldn't stop myself.

And why had I been ignoring Nate during that time?

Because I took for granted that he would always love me no matter what.

I was his mother. He had to love me.

_Didn't he? _

Alex took her coffee cup with her, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I listened as she padded down the hall and closed their bedroom door.

I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

What was it about her that always got my hackles up?

We were supposed to be the best of friends, and instead we could barely be in the same room for more than five minutes without arguing.

_Without me, jumping on her_, I amended.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Bobby came back into the kitchen.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his expression inscrutable.

"You don't have to," I argued lamely. "I can take the subway."

"If you really wanted to do that, you would've left already," he answered shortly as he put on his coat. "Let's go."

I grabbed my coat, and together we went down the elevator and out to the car. He didn't say a word as he started the engine and pulled out into traffic. It was unnerving. I wanted him to just say what he needed to say. But five miles later, he was still quiet.

"What?" I asked at last in exasperation.

"What do you mean what?"

"You wanted to drive me for a reason," I sighed. "Just say it. You want to kick me out? You want me to leave you guys alone? What?"

"I want you to stop picking fights with Alex just because you're upset with your life."

"I'm not…"

"Yes you are," he interrupted. "You're moody and confrontational and constantly defensive."

"Well, don't hold back," I said crossly.

"I won't. Because if you want a chance at getting your life back, then you've got to realize what you're doing."

"What do you know about it? What do you know about any of it? Just what Alex has told you, and I'm sure she's painted it so that it's all my fault."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because…because…"

Why would she do that?

"Because you think she doesn't like you? If she didn't, then why would she have opened her home to you? Why would she have spent the past couple of weeks having sleepless nights because she's so worried about you?"

_Alex had been worried about me?_

"I don't…I don't know."

"That's right. You don't know. You're real quick to judge her, and to assume that everything in her life is so great, but how much do you really know?"

"Not that much. But she doesn't talk to me!" I fired back. I wasn't going to take all of the blame for not knowing Alex any better than I did.

"She tries," he said quietly. "I've heard her on the phone with you. You never stop talking about yourself long enough for her to get in a word. She could put the phone down and walk away and you'd never know the difference. You're completely self-absorbed."

"I just…I want…"

"You want her to be impressed by you," he stated.

"No," I said immediately, but then I fell silent.

Did I?

Was that true?

I never wanted to know what she was doing, but rather just wanted to tell her about me.

I wanted her to say, _wow Cathy, that's great_.

Or maybe I wanted, just for a second, for her to wish that she could be more like me instead of the other way around.

"Maybe," I admitted.

And he didn't gloat at my confession. He didn't tell me I was crazy, or that I was stupid, or anything.

He just nodded his head thoughtfully.

"You can't live to please someone else," he said. "Only yourself."

"That sounds simple enough in theory."

"It's not simple at all. And trust me, it's easy to get lost. But you've caught yourself before you got too far gone. You can find your way back."

"I don't know," I mused. And I suddenly wasn't intimidated by him anymore. He was actually very easy to talk to. "I'm afraid that…that the damage is done."

"You have some ground to make up," he agreed. "But Nate needs you. So that makes it worth whatever amount of groveling and swallowing of pride that you need to do."

I leaned my head back against the seat and looked out the window.

Did Nate need me?

Or was he better with Steve, who was stable and steady and loving…

"Are you sure?"

"That Nate needs you? Yes."

"How can you know? You're not a parent," I said, and then I thought about how that sounded. "I don't mean that in a bad way…I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he said dismissively. "I know because I _was_ Nate, so to speak. My father left us when I was a kid. And he'd call once in a while, or show up randomly, but he never backed up his promises. So in a way, it was like a continual letdown. It made me wonder sometimes what I had done wrong. What was wrong with me that made him not want to stay?"

"I'm sure it didn't have anything to do with you," I said quickly, working to mask my surprise at this new information about Bobby's childhood.

"I can rationalize that now, as an adult," he agreed. "And even that has taken some time. And a lot of help from your sister," he added with a grin. "But my point is that your relationship with him is important. And you can't act as though you can do whatever you want and then go back and everything will be the same. Even at six, he's smarter than that. He knows that you're in town and that you're choosing not to see him. How do you think that makes him feel?"

"I…didn't really think about it like that," I said, and I suddenly felt choked up.

Had Nate cried for me when I wasn't there?

Had he been asking Steve about me? Of course he had. Like Bobby said, he wasn't stupid. And I trusted that Steve had made up some type of excuse for me, but why should he have to?

"I wasn't trying to upset you," Bobby said quietly. "I just wanted you to see the other side. You're so busy fighting with Alex and trying to convince her to stand behind you, but she's standing behind Nate."

"I know," I said.

"And Steve is trying to protect him, too. He's trying to keep you from coming in and out of his life without rhyme or reason. You need to make up your mind to be involved. All of the time, whether it's convenient or not."

"I know," I said again, and the tears started falling at an alarming rate.

We'd arrived at the hospital by this time, and after pulling into a parking space, he reached in his pocket and got out a handkerchief.

"I know you know," he said gently as he handed it to me.

"So now what?" I asked after I took a moment to pull myself together. "Do you want me to leave? Because if you do, I understand. I mean, I've been a total bitch to both of you, and…"

"I don't want you to leave. I want you to fix it. And I want you to make sure to put Nate first."

"I will. I promise."

"Okay. Sorry to…make you cry before work. I didn't…"

He was going to apologize to me? It almost made me want to cry again.

"It's fine. I'll take the subway home tonight," I told him.

"You've got a key? And the code? In case we're not home, I mean."

"I do," I told him. I got out of the car and then leaned back into the open doorway.

"Thanks, Bobby. Really. I appreciate that you took the time to talk with me instead of just…I don't know. Getting mad that I was yelling at Alex."

"Well, I am mad about that," he said, but he smiled a little when he said the words. "So don't let that happen again, got it?"

"I got it."

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Lupo POV**

* * *

Bernard and I worked diligently all week trying to find information on our dead tourist.

He'd had no identification on him at the time he'd been found.

In fact, I wasn't exactly sure how he'd been deemed specifically as a tourist, because it took us a day to even figure out who in the hell he was.

Of course, I wasn't going to argue with the commissioner about his classification, but still…it was a little bit odd to me that Major Case had been called in so quickly.

On Tuesday, we went to see Liz. That was the soonest that she'd been able to get him on the table.

Apparently February is a busy month for medical examiners.

Although, according to Liz, so are the other eleven months of the year.

"Stab wound to the back," Liz said when Bernard and I walked into the autopsy suite. "Someone decided to sever his renal artery."

"Any idea as to the weapon used?" Bernard asked her.

"I'm glad you asked, Detective," she said with a smile. She pulled off her gloves and walked over to a table. Several manuals were spread out across the work surface and when I joined her at the table, I realized that they appeared to be tool catalogues.

"Doing a little shopping for the Cap, Doc?" I asked her.

"He doesn't really seem like a Craftsman kind of guy to me," Bernard added.

"He's not," she said with a wry grin. "But your killer is. I'm thinking he used something like…this maybe."

She pointed out a picture of a pair of straight-cutting compound-action snips.

"I'm guessing he stabbed in," she said, putting one hand on my shoulder and using the other hand to motion as though she were shoving a weapon into my back. "And then he opened the snips. And it looks like more than once."

"Ouch," Bernard mumbled.

"Exactly. There's a lot of damage, and to more than just the renal artery."

"Do you have a guess as to why?"

"I think your killer wanted to make sure that he got the artery. If he didn't, your guy might've lived. By repeating the cutting action as opposed to pulling the tool in and out of your victim, he minimalized the blood spatter while maximizing the damage."

"Huh," I remarked as I turned around to look at the guy again.

He looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was average looking, Caucasian…he'd been dressed decently when we found him in the park, so I would have to guess that he wasn't homeless. As of this morning, no one had reported him missing.

"Did you pull his prints so that we can find out who he is?"

"I did," she confirmed. "And I had some time, so I ran it for you."

"And it popped? Great. Who is he?"

"Barry Brubaker, age thirty-seven."

"He's got a record?"

"Nope. He was a soldier."

We left Rodgers and headed back to 1PP. As it turned out, our guy had been in the Army from 1991 until 2001.

"Standard ten-year deal," I remarked to Bernard. "Look. He went to Syracuse for the first four years on an ROTC scholarship and then put in six years of active duty after graduation."

"So why did he end up in John Jay Park?" Bernard mused as he tapped at his computer. "I'm showing an address for him in Rockville, Maryland, but only until 2007. After that, he used PO Boxes in DC, but there's no evidence of a physical address."

"Maybe he moved in with someone," I suggested. "That would explain why he's not on a lease."

"Or he moved back in with his parents," Bernard offered. "Eddie and Norma Brubaker of Binghamton, New York."

"They're still living?"

"Looks like it. I guess we need to go make a notification then, huh?"

"I guess so."

So we drove to Binghamton.

We found the Brubakers' home and gave them the notification that their son had been killed.

No matter how many times I had to do it, this part of the job never got easier.

"He spent a year in Afghanistan," his mother told me as she bravely held herself together. "I worried about him every day that he was gone. I was so relieved when he came home."

Bernard and I looked at each other as Eddie put a comforting arm around his wife. I took a deep breath and plowed ahead.

"I hate to ask you questions at a time like this, but we've been unable to find a current address for Barry."

"He lived in Arlington," Norma said. "I can…I can get you the address."

"Did he have a roommate?"

"Yes. Or, at least for awhile. I'm not sure if the other boy was still living there or not. Barry hadn't talked about him recently."

Boy. It was funny how in parents' eyes, kids are always kids.

"What's that boy's name?" I asked.

"Um…Troy? Tommy? I'm not really sure. We never actually met him. I got the impression that the living arrangements were just for financial reasons."

"Do you know why your son was in New York?"

"New York?"

"Yes, ma'am. We're New York City detectives," I reminded her.

"He was in New York?" she asked again, clearly surprised by this fact.

"Yes, ma'am."

Eddie and Norma looked at each other again, but I didn't get the sense that they had anything to hide. They honestly had no idea why Barry had gone to New York.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said. "We just don't know."

"When was the last time you spoke to your son?"

"Saturday," Norma said. "Saturday afternoon. He said he was working on something, though, and he seemed very distracted."

"Did he mention what that was?" Bernard asked hopefully.

"I didn't ask him," she admitted. "I just asked when he was coming for a visit. Next weekend, he said."

"Working on something," I stated. "And where was he employed?"

"At Shea and Sons in Bethesda."

It was an investment firm, and a fairly prestigious one. I would've thought that a boss there would've reported him missing when he didn't show for work yesterday.

It was a long, quiet drive back to the city, and it was late when we arrived, so by mutual agreement, we called it a day.

For two days in a row, we made the trip to the D.C. area. We checked out the Rockville address, and the Arlington address, but to no avail. Each had new tenants, and neither knew of the former occupant.

In fact, with the Arlington address, there was nothing to back up the assertion that he'd lived there at all except for his mother's say so.

"What does it mean that Brubaker moved again without telling his mom and dad?" Bernard asked as we drove back to Manhattan. "I mean, would you move without telling your mom?"

At my delayed response, Bernard realized his error.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry, Lupes. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay."

"No, really."

"It's okay," I insisted. "It was a hypothetical question. And the answer is no. I wouldn't move and not tell my family where I was going. And Brubaker seemed to still be in good with his family. I mean, he was planning a trip home for the weekend."

"That's right," Bernard said, regaining his rhythm after his perceived faux pas. "And not only that, but he must have moved in with a roommate again so that he could stay off the radar. Why would he do that?"

"It's almost like he works for the CIA or something."

"It's possible."

"I don't know," I said dismissively, even though I'd been the one to suggest it. "That's pretty farfetched."

"Well, we know he has military training. No one knows where he lives or what he does for a living, and he seems to only use cash," he pointed out.

We'd found out that the guy had a checking account at Craddock-Marine, but he had no credit cards in his name. He was virtually working off the grid.

"Yeah, but then how did someone get the drop on him in the park? If he was good enough to be a spook, how did someone just walk up behind him and stab him in the back?"

"Maybe it was someone he trusted."

"Like a woman?"

He just shrugged.

"Okay, so let's say he's not CIA. Then where was he getting his money?" Bernard posed. "You think someone hired him off the books?"

"That I don't know," I admitted.

We'd visited the company where his parents thought that he was worked, but when we talked to his old boss, we learned that he'd left the company in 2007.

"So he gets out of the Army in 2001. He gets a good job, and he has an apartment in Rockville, and then six years later, he suddenly quits without notice and walks out on his lease."

"We're spinning our wheels here," I said in frustration. "We're getting hung up on where he lived. What difference does it make?"

"Because we also don't know where he worked or what he did or who his friends were," Bernard pointed out. "We have no motive, no suspects…in fact, we don't have shit."

"Okay. Tomorrow let's start from scratch," I suggested. "We'll go back over the ME's report, and all of the evidence that was gathered. Maybe we missed something the first time around."

I would've said that we'd do it tonight, but it was almost eleven, and we'd been going for nearly forty-eight hours straight.

I was done.

"Sounds good to me, Lupes," he agreed.

I dropped him off at his place and drove home on autopilot.

"Lupo?" Connie called out from the sofa when I entered the apartment. The living room was dark except for the glow from the TV and I couldn't see her head, so I figured that she was lying down.

"Yeah, it's me."

I tossed my jacket onto the chair and set my things on the table and then went into the living room.

Otto proved to be not much of a guard dog since he couldn't be bothered to move from the couch, but I scooted him out of the way so that I could sit down. I picked up Connie's feet and eased beneath them and then settled them onto my lap before leaning my head against the back cushion.

"Long day?"

"Yes," I said on a sigh. I absently began running my hands along one of her feet. "Two trips to DC and one to Binghamton in three days…that's a lot of road time."

"Did you find out anything?"

"Not really," I admitted.

I filled her in on what we knew, but I didn't offer any of our theories. I wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Sounds like maybe he had a stalker," she told me when I finished.

"What? A stalker?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "He was staying under the radar for a reason. And really, wouldn't someone in the CIA at least have a cover story in place? This guy just tried to vanish."

I thought about that while she shifted on the couch so that she was sitting up, and then she guided my head down into her lap. She began running her fingers through my hair and I let out a heavy sigh as I felt the tension leave me.

"That might make sense," I agreed after a few minutes. "And it might give me a motive and a suspect if I can find who was doing the stalking."

"Do you want to keep talking about work?" she asked in a voice that told me she was hoping my answer was no.

But she was also very understanding, and if this case was going to be on my mind, then she'd stick with me.

"No," I said as I turned onto my back and reached up to touch her cheek. Otto immediately stood up and started barking. "Oh, _now_ you bark. I come in the place, and you're fine with that. But I lay a finger on Connie, and all bets are off."

"He knows who butters his bread," she replied, placing a calming hand on the dog's head. "Do you want me to take him into the bedroom?"

"No. I want to take _you_ into the bedroom."

Friday turned out to be much better than the rest of the week.

For starters, Bernard and I got to go arrest Travis Donker. It wasn't exactly in our job description, but Ross had okayed it, so as soon as Connie called to say that the charges had been officially filed by Cathy herself, we headed for Donker's place.

He was home, according to Alex, because he'd been suspended from his job. Not much of a surprise there.

We were met outside of his building by Sean Eames.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea," I said as I got out of the car. He looked like he was about to blow a gasket and I wasn't sure why Alex had called him.

Although, I had to remember that Cathy was his sister.

How would I react if I were him?

Probably exactly like this.

"I'm just along for the ride," Sean assured me. He was in uniform, which made him look a little more official and visible than us, so I shrugged at Bernard.

"Go ahead. We'll follow," I told Sean when Bernard gave me the nod.

So the three of us went into the building and made quite a production.

At one point, I was sure that Travis was reaching for a weapon of some sort, so it was completely justified when Sean had to take him down to the ground and jam his face into the floor while he jerked on the cuffs.

Then when Sean hauled him to his feet, Travis spit on my shoe. And I was really fond of these shoes so it stood to reason that Sean was well within the spirit of the law when he held Travis up against the wall with his forearm to his throat until he managed to croak out an apology for messing up my shoes.

Then Bernard glanced through the open doorway of the apartment.

"Hey Lupes," he said with a grin. "Is that blow on the coffee table?"

"Yeah, you know what? I think it is," I said as I followed him into the apartment.

We found two grams.

And a woman.

"Get your clothes on, sugar," Bernard told her when he opened the bedroom door. "This is your lucky day."

"What? What's going on?"

"You'll thank us later," I told her. "He obviously hasn't had the chance to beat the crap out of you yet."

So we booked Travis and freed his latest conquest. He would have possession charges added to the assault charge.

Sean didn't take him in with us, but he did put him in our car. It only took three shoves before Travis' head cleared the doorway. He slammed the door shut and then stood back and looked at us.

"Thank you," he said.

"My pleasure," I told him as I shook his hand. "I'm sorry that it came to this, but I'm glad she finally woke up and pressed charges. And now, with the added drug charge, even if she changes her mind later, we'll still have him for that. He's going to be locked up for at least a month or so. Hopefully longer."

"Good. Let me know if there's any trouble or anything," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the backseat. "I don't want you two to take any heat for me."

"We'll be fine," Bernard told him.

After we took Travis to lock up, we discovered that our murder weapon had been found.

"It was behind a dumpster on 2nd and 77th," Ross told us.

"How do we know it's ours?" Bernard asked him.

"CSU picked it up when the restaurant owner called. He saw it when he took out his trash. It was still covered in blood. CSU matched it up to your vic."

"I'm guessing fingerprints would be too much to hope for," I stated.

"What would I need you guys for if we had fingerprints?" Ross asked drolly. "But if you're lucky, maybe it's a unique brand."

"Was the doc right? It's compound-action snips?"

"_Straight-cutting_ compound-action snips," Ross corrected with a grin. "Of course she was right."

The snips were fairly new, so we started down that path. Which stores sold that brand, how many had been purchased in the past month, how many of those were bought with credit cards…before I knew it, it was eight o'clock. My cell phone rang, so I swiped at my bleary eyes and pushed back from my desk. Bernard appeared to still be working, but I couldn't be sure. He was in some sort of trance.

"Lupo," I answered without checking the display.

"How much do you love me?" Connie asked in a low, husky voice.

"You have to ask?" I retorted, my mood instantly improved.

"No," she agreed quickly. "But however much, it's gonna be more."

And now not only was my mood better, but my curiosity was piqued. She had something.

"Impossible," I argued lightly. "But tell me anyway."

"Barry Brubaker filed a restraining order against a woman named Sheri Sexton in September 2007."

"Hello, stalker," I murmured. I snapped my fingers at Bernard to get his attention.

"Was this the Rockville PD?"

"Yes. I'm emailing it to you right now."

"I owe you," I replied.

"Yes you do."

I hung up with her and checked my email as Bernard walked around my desk to read over my shoulder.

"Check it out," I told him. "Connie was right. Our guy did have a stalker."

Connie had attached all related documentation, including the supporting notes for the TRO.

"She sent him flowers, paid his bills, washed his car…this is stalking?"

"It is if it's unwanted," I said. And of course, he knew that. But I had to admit, it was weird stalking.

"Oh, there you go," I said. "She killed his cat."

"Still…" Bernard joked. He wasn't a cat person. Neither was I and it _had_ been a long week, so I chuckled along with him.

"September 2007 and that was the last known date we have for his whereabouts. After that, he moved and quit his job."

"Well, well, well," he muttered. "Take a look at the detective who took the complaint. I don't know how it's relevant, but it's sure as hell an odd coincidence."

"I don't know him. You do?"

"Uh huh. Matt Harker. He was an MCS detective for about five minutes. You're his replacement."

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Logan POV**

* * *

I worked at the federal building for the better part of the week.

I preferred it when Carolyn worked with me, but she was trying to track down A.J. Hemmings.

Or so she'd said.

I mean, she _was_ working on that, but Bobby or Alex could've handled it.

They were both working on a ten-year old case that could surely sit for another few days.

The truth was more likely that she wanted me to deal with the feds on my own.

She'd mentioned something about her not wanting to be the only one they depended on, and that it would open more doors for us, professionally, if we were all equally sought after by the Bureau, so…I figured this was my turn to prove myself.

Not to her.

I don't mean that.

She knows what I can do, and whatever confidence issues I may have had in the past don't pertain to my ability to get the job done.

But rather, this was my turn to show the _feds_ what I could do. So I worked my ass off to make sure that I did a good job.

And it pleased me to no end that I did.

I ran through the evidence.

I picked up on a tidbit that the others had missed.

I came up with a possible profile of the suspect.

And we caught him.

Not only that, but I made a few friends, too. Turns out that maybe I'm not as prickly as I once was.

So after the suspect was apprehended and irrefutable evidence was found in his vehicle, the Special Agent in Charge held a press conference, and he invited me to stay and take questions from the media.

"Are you sure?" I asked him. "I mean, we usually just stay on the sidelines for this kind of thing."

"It was your insight that caught the guy," SAC Weiss insisted. "You've taken your share of hits in the press. It's only fair that you get the accolades when they're due."

I'd mentioned the article from Monday. He and I had discussed it a few times. The Bureau was certainly no stranger to bad PR, and he'd been very supportive.

So I did the press conference.

And when I finished, and I stepped away from the podium, there was Carolyn.

She looked at me with such pride that I was briefly overcome with emotion. I paused for a moment, but then I felt Weiss' hand on my shoulder so together we walked toward the stairs where Carolyn was standing.

"Carolyn," Weiss said, extending his hand to her. "It's great to see you. I'm sorry you had to miss this case, but Logan did an excellent job."

"I can see that," she replied with a smile.

And what a smile it was. I had a feeling that I was going to get very lucky tonight.

"Let me buy you guys a drink," Weiss offered.

So thirty minutes later, we were sitting in a bar with Weiss and Agents Freeman and Conklin.

"Logan tells me that you've been busy trying to track down the reporter who wrote that article," Weiss said once we all had drinks in front of us. "Did you have any luck?"

"I think so," Carolyn said. "It looks like maybe she opened a bank account in DC. I'm going down in the morning."

"_We're_ going down in the morning," I countered, giving her hand a squeeze under the table. "Looks like we finished up this case just in time."

"Why is it a maybe?" Conklin asked. "Is she using an alias?"

"No, but she's using a different social security number. She gave the bank a home address though, so I'm going to check it out. It's an apartment complex in Chevy Chase."

"Who's number is she using?"

"Honestly? I haven't checked yet," Carolyn admitted. "I just found out about it when I was getting ready to come out to the press conference."

"Do you have it with you?" Weiss asked, pulling out his phone.

_He must not know Carolyn very well_, I thought with a smirk. Whether or not she had it written down didn't really make any difference. She knew the number.

And she did. She spouted off the nine digits and Weiss put in a request to get information on that number. In five minutes, we had our answer.

"The number belongs to a dead woman," Weiss said as he put his phone away. "Her obituary was in the Times last week. I'm guessing your girl held onto it just in case she needed it."

"Then why keep using her real name?" Conklin asked. "That's pretty stupid. I don't think you're dealing with a career criminal here."

"According to her record, she's never done anything illegal before."

"Not that she got caught at anyway," I supplied.

"Very true. She's only had an apartment in New York for not much more than a month. She must have met Bernard right after she moved here."

"I'm sure that was no accident. And that was about the time that he was transferred to MCS," I pointed out.

"Uh huh," Carolyn mused. "Odd coincidence, don't you think?"

I didn't believe in coincidences and neither did Carolyn. I was hoping like hell that we'd be able to track her down so that I could have another go at her.

"Well, I've got a friend at the Hoover Building," Weiss offered. "If you need a friendly face while you're down there, let me know."

We stayed at the bar for another hour and then grabbed a cab and headed for home.

"So how does it feel to be the man of the hour?" Carolyn asked me as she settled her hand on my thigh.

_Very high_ up on my thigh.

We were still in the backseat of the cab, so I put my hand on hers and held it in an effort to keep her from instigating something we wouldn't be able to finish just yet.

"It's a nice change of pace," I replied with a smile.

"You made the company look good," she continued. "And you made friends. Friends who already showed a willingness to help us out when we need some information."

"That's true," I agreed.

Because she was right.

Weiss had been under no obligation to check out that social for us. In fact, we hadn't asked.

It had been his idea.

And he'd offered a potentially helpful contact.

It was a wonderful and exhilarating feeling to realize my usefulness to the business.

And I'm not saying that Carolyn ever indicated that I was anything less than equal, but I'd had my doubts.

Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses, and previously my weakness had been my inability to play nice with others.

But this week I had. And it had paid off nicely.

"You knew that Weiss would like me," I said suddenly as the cab came to a stop in front of our place. She didn't answer as I paid the driver and we got out of the car.

"I knew that he'd listen to you. And I knew that he'd give you a chance. What you did with that chance was all you."

Once inside, we shed our coats and sat down in the living room to unwind. She filled me in on the latest with Cathy as well as the case that the Gorens were working on.

"What are they doing tomorrow?" I asked her.

"I think they're going down to talk to the woman running PTI. I'll be surprised if she admits to knowing anything about it, but who knows?"

"They'll get her to talk," I said.

Bobby and Alex could almost always get people to talk.

Bobby would wander and look non-threatening while Alex would get close and cut to the chase.

Then Bobby would come from left field with a seemingly innocuous observation at which point Alex would follow up with several more straight-forward questions.

By this time, they would both have a perfect read on the individual, and it was all over but the crying.

It was a thing of beauty, really.

"So, do you want to talk about Bobby and Alex, or…"

"Or what?" I asked as a grin spread across my face.

I was feeling a bit cocky tonight after my success and I was really hoping that maybe she was feeling like talking dirty.

I loved hearing the sound of x-rated directives coming from her lips.

She didn't disappoint.

Of course, I never considered that she would.

She straddled my lap and grabbed me by the front of my shirt before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

And oh the things she said…

Hers was a creative mind and it only took a few seconds for me to reach the point where it was absolutely vital that I get out of my pants.

She made one last suggestion, one last dare, really, and then stood up and headed for the stairs.

I caught her halfway up.

We didn't finish our ascent until some time later when we were both naked and sweaty.

"Sweetheart, you are way too good at that," I told her when we finally climbed into the bed. And then I chuckled and added, "And I am way too old to be doing that on the stairwell."

"I think you managed just fine," she assured me.

"Fine? Is that all I get?" I teased as I pulled her against me.

She humored me by lavishing me with every fifty-cent word she could think of until her originality had me erupting into laughter.

"Never mind," I said, still working to get myself under control. "I'll take fine."

"So will I," she answered. Her tone was suddenly serious and she ran her hand possessively over my chest. "I'll take fine every time."

And that was perfectly alright with me.

The next morning, we drove down to D.C.

We started in Georgetown at the branch of Provident Bank where we suspected that A.J. Hemmings had opened an account, and we showed a picture that we'd pulled from the DMV database.

"That's her," the clerk agreed after a moment of examination.

So then we drove to the apartment complex in the beltway suburb of Chevy Chase, Maryland.

It was a cold, snowy Saturday and the place was fairly quiet, even though it was nearly noon.

"What are the odds that she's actually here?" I mused as we entered the lobby. The front door looked as though it had security at one time, but it was no longer functioning properly.

"That would be too easy," she stated.

"Are we going to go inside?" I asked her. "I mean, if no one answers."

"You mean are we going to commit a B&E, just like we're accused of doing in that article?"

"Yeah, maybe not," I replied with a shrug.

We went around the corner and up the stairs to the third floor. Again, the place was eerily quiet and as we slowly and cautiously went down the hall, I had the niggling sensation that something was off.

One glance at Carolyn told me that she was feeling it too. Each of us unholstered our weapons and continued down the hall.

The apartment number that Hemmings had used for her bank account was 329. It should've been the last one on the left.

As we got closer, it looked like the door was slightly ajar in the apartment across the hall. Not a crime, obviously, but still…I wasn't a cop for twenty-four years for nothing.

We paused outside of that door, apartment 330, and listened briefly.

"It's got to be here somewhere."

"We've looked everywhere!"

"Where the fuck would he have put it?"

"I don't know. Maybe Pebo should've asked him that before he killed him."

That was all we needed to hear.

It wasn't really our job, and maybe we should've just called the cops, but we couldn't stand idly by while people were obviously committing robbery, people who were potentially involved with a murder.

I pushed carefully on the door until it swung inwards, giving us a full view of the living room and kitchen just inside the apartment.

Two men in were in the room. Both of them had their backs to us.

One was on his knees in front of an open kitchen cabinet and the other was rifling through desk drawers.

Carolyn silently moved toward the kitchen, keeping her aim on that guy while I covered the one in the living room.

"What the hell's going on in here guys?" I asked calmly.

"Uh uh," Carolyn ordered as her guy reached for a weapon. "Don't do it."

"Shit, man," my guy moaned as he stood up and held his hands up. "Did C-Dog send you?"

I glanced quickly at Carolyn and then gave my guy a shrug.

"Yeah," I told him. "C-Dog. What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

"It ain't here," the guy in the kitchen insisted. He was still on his knees, but he held his hands up in the air.

"I can see that," Carolyn told him as she moved into the kitchen. "But where else could it be?"

"I don't _know_, man. Shit. We checked the locker and we checked this place. I'm telling you. It ain't fucking here. I think Pebo missed it."

"You think it was on the body?" Carolyn asked him, playing along as though she knew the game. I didn't know what we'd stumbled into here, but right about now I was wishing that we _had_ called the local cops.

"Yeah, man," my guy added. "Yeah, so tell C-Dog that it's on Pebo, not us, man. Shit."

And then the guy in the kitchen made his move.

He pulled his gun.

"I ain't going down like this!" he shouted.

I swung my aim to him as Carolyn fired, and then the guy in the living room made a dive for his gun, which had been on the coffee table, so I whirled back around toward him.

He squeezed off two rounds before I hit him square in the chest with my .45. He went sprawling backwards into the desk.

I turned back toward the kitchen and the guy in there was flat on his back on the floor.

I looked quickly to Carolyn, who was staring at me with a look of disbelief. She had blowback on her jacket. She'd been that close to the guy when she'd had to shoot him.

"Mike…" she began.

"I have no idea."

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Alex POV**

* * *

I took a shower while Bobby drove Cathy to work.

I was secretly thrilled with his assertiveness.

And maybe not-so-secretly. Maybe I'd tell him when he got back.

I'd love to know what he said to her, but I wasn't going to ask him. I liked the possibility of the two of them trying to forge some type of relationship, so maybe it would be better if I stayed out of it.

Besides, he'd tell me if it was anything that I needed to know.

Although, he _was _going to have to at least tell me the gist of it considering we had another bet.

I'd bet him that she'd clam up and ignore him for the whole drive.

He'd said that he'd get her talking. Not yelling, talking.

Our terms were, of course, unique and of a sexual nature so as usual, I didn't mind whether I won or lost.

In fact, I hoped that I lost. It certainly wouldn't be a hardship on me, and also because that would mean that maybe he'd gotten through to her.

Sean called as I was getting dressed.

"Have you killed her yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," I replied. "But it's always a possibility."

"Well, it's nice to know that some things haven't changed," he joked.

He'd been very appreciative of the fact that I'd followed through with my promise by calling him yesterday.

I guess maybe he'd thought that I wouldn't. Probably because I hadn't been forthcoming with the rest of the family, but damn it, it just wasn't my story to tell.

Cathy needed to do it.

I only knew because she'd confided in me and I didn't want to seem like I was running to Mom and Dad.

I especially didn't want to tell Mom about any of this.

Maybe later, after the fact.

_After _Cathy straightened her life out.

But for now, it just wasn't necessary.

Mom didn't need that kind of stress and what good would it do anyway?

Same thing with Dad, really. What would he do besides overreact?

Besides, he was busy enough these days trying to keep score between Joe and Bobby. And how insane was that?

"Where is she now?" Sean asked me.

"Bobby drove her to work. She's got a twelve-hour shift today."

"And Bobby drove her?" he asked in surprise.

"Uh huh."

"Well, that should be interesting. So did you talk to her about coming clean with Mom and Dad?"

"Not yet," I admitted. "We can't go more than five minute without yelling at each other. Maybe you should take a run at her."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed. "I'm working this weekend. How about if I come over for dinner Monday night?"

"I'm not cooking," I told him with a grin.

"Thank God," he joked. "I'll bring something."

I hung up with him and finished getting myself ready. I heard Bobby come through the door just as I left the bedroom.

"Are you ready?" he called out to me as he came through the living room. He had a mischievous look on his face and was striding purposefully toward me.

"Yeah. You've got good timing," I replied. "So…everything's okay?"

He grabbed my face in both of his hands and kissed me firmly.

"Everything's fine," he said once he let go of me.

"You won the bet," I stated, a smile spreading across my face.

"You doubted me?"

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "Not for a second."

He matched my grin and tipped his head toward the door.

"Come on. Let's go find out what Helen has to say."

Again, I had to wonder what had transpired in the car, but I let it go.

Instead, I grabbed our file and followed him out of the door.

"Sean's going to come to dinner Monday night," I told him as I drove us into Manhattan. In deference to his take-charge attitude, I'd offered for him to drive, but he said that he wanted to look over his notes again.

"Is there an agenda?"

"He wants to talk to her about being honest with the rest of the family. I'm sure he hates keeping this secret from Kevin. And of course, Mom and Dad."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. Because I was even less sure now that he was questioning it as well. Maybe it _would_ be better to only tell our parents after the situation was resolved.

"Let's see how the rest of the weekend goes. And maybe if Steve says it's okay, we can pick up Nate tomorrow."

"You mean with Cathy?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. "It might be a good idea to have a buffer for Nate for that first get-together."

It was an excellent idea, and I was sure that Steve would go along with it. He didn't want to keep Cathy away from Nate. He just wanted to make sure that his son was safe, both physically and emotionally.

We tabled the Cathy talk as we arrived on Helen Chamber's street.

We'd both dressed casual in an effort to be approachable and non-threatening.

We definitely didn't want to come off looking like cops, especially since we were going to try to finesse the information from her.

The neighborhood was decent, with brick-front townhouses close up on the street. There were a few kids outside, messing around in the snow, and there was fairly heavy pedestrian traffic.

"Hey," I said suddenly, putting my hand on his forearm as we stepped up onto the sidewalk.

"What is it?"

"Maybe we should come at this from a different angle."

"As in…"

"Right. Because then maybe…"

"Uh huh," he agreed with a nod.

And the feeling of being so perfectly understood just never got old.

It may have been what drew me to Bobby in the first place.

His uncanny ability to know how my mind works.

His interest in finding out in the first place.

His innate sense of what makes me tick and what drives me to do the things that I do.

Of course, it could also have been his sexy voice or his bedroom eyes or his perfectly-formed ass.

It's hard to say.

I flashed him a smile and then grabbed onto his hand.

"Follow my lead," I said.

"Honey, I will follow you anywhere," he answered.

We walked up the steps and I let go of his hand and then knocked on the door.

"Helen?" I asked when a woman who appeared to be in her early sixties opened the door.

"Yes. Can I help you?"

"Detective Munch gave me your name."

And just like that, we were in.

I didn't feel bad using Munch's name because we weren't going to bust Helen.

Nothing we learned today was ever going to be written into a police report or any kind of official documentation.

We just wanted some answers.

Because if we were barking up the wrong tree, then we would need to step back and re-evaluate.

And if we weren't, well…then we had some soul-searching to do.

Helen led us into a parlor-style room that contained a stiff loveseat and two wing-back chairs.

"I don't normally take walk-ins," she began when she sat down across from us. "But Detective Munch is a dear old friend, and I would never turn an acquaintance of his away. Did you bring your documents? W-2s and 1099-Rs?"

Her on-the-books source of income was as a tax advisor.

"We're not here to file our taxes," I told her. "We need your help. We need to know what you know about Paul Jennings."

And yeah, it had been ten years.

And yeah, it was a crap shoot that Helen was the one who had helped him.

But my straight-forward approach had caught her off guard.

And we were right. It was written all over her face.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know any Paul Jennings. I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Are you sure? Because it looked like you recognized that name," Bobby said.

Helen quickly got up from her chair.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked crossly.

"We're not cops," I said quickly. "And we're not reporters. We just need to know if it's true."

"If what's true?"

"Did you help Paul Jennings kidnap his son?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Ms. Chambers…please. We were hired by Brooke Jennings. She wants us to find her son. And we are very good at our jobs, so we will find him. But if you tell us that you helped Paul, and that there was good reason for him wanting to escape with his son, then maybe we can stop looking."

"You said yourself," she responded. "You were hired by Brooke. How do I know you won't hand over whatever I tell you to her?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Bobby questioned. "You might have known where they were ten years ago, but you don't know where they are now. Anything you tell us only confirms what happened. It won't get her closer to finding them. She already suspects that he's in London."

"And aside from that, we won't tell her. Not if you share with us why you helped them."

"You got this far," she said with attitude. "You tell me."

"We think that Brooke was beating Adam," I told her. "But Paul had an old drug arrest, so he was never going to get custody. You rented a car similar to his and you picked up Adam from school and then you flew with him to London."

"You two must be pretty good detectives. I guess that's why Munch is friends with you," she said with a smirk.

I liked her pluck and I appreciated that she was being protective of the Jenningses.

She paced across the small room, and Bobby got up from the loveseat and followed her.

"We're trying to do the right thing here," he told her sincerely. "If being with Paul is protecting Adam, then…then we're willing to drop the investigation."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he assured her.

He stood in front of her with his hands in his pockets and an open, honest expression on his face.

Under the weight of that earnest gaze, it would be nearly impossible for her to hold out.

She didn't.

"Brooke was beating Adam," she admitted on a sigh. "Paul came to me and asked for help. I got him the documentation that he needed and I flew with Adam to London. Paul joined us a couple of days later and I came home. I haven't heard from them since."

"Not at all?" I asked dubiously. She gave me a warm smile that spoke volumes to the amount of affection that she felt toward that little boy with whom she'd spent a few days all those years ago.

"I get unsigned postcards from time to time."

"Are they blank?"

"No, but close to it. Sometimes it'll be a series of letters, and usually they're all A's," she said with a smile.

"He sends you his grades?"

"I think in the beginning, Paul wanted to prove to me that I'd done the right thing by helping him. And then later…well, I don't know. Maybe it just became habit. Maybe he just enjoyed sharing with someone from his old life."

"But you couldn't have known him for long."

"Sometimes circumstance breeds closeness more so than time."

"And you're sure that he was clean?" I questioned. I had to know. I had to have all of the facts before I potentially turned a blind eye to a kidnapping.

"He'd been taking court-ordered drug tests over the course of the year before he came to me. He continued taking them while he was in his custody battle so that he could prove that he was drug-free. He brought me the results. He went twice a week, every week for a year. That's one hundred and four reports, and they were all negative. I've dealt with addicts before. The follow-through is usually what trips them up. Paul had follow-through."

"Thank you," Bobby told her. I got up and joined him where he stood next to her.

"We appreciate your time," I added.

"You're very welcome," she answered. "But if anyone else asks me, I'll deny it until my dying day."

"Of course," Bobby said sincerely as he shook her hand. "You have our word."

We left Helen's home and went back to the car.

"So," he began. "Are we really going to look the other way?"

It was a difficult thing to consider.

I mean, the law was the law. But there had been plenty of times when we'd seen the law fail innocent victims. Maybe this was an opportunity to let justice prevail. If Adam was happy and healthy and Brooke had truly been beating him, then who would it benefit if we were to blow the whistle?

And we absolutely weren't going to rat out Helen. We'd given our word, to her and to Munch. So any whistle-blowing would have to entail some sort of as-yet-unfound evidence that backed up the idea that Paul had taken Adam.

"You know, maybe we need to take it a step further," Bobby suggested.

And he didn't say what he meant. He didn't have to. Like I said, we're connected.

But before I could ponder the pros and cons of his suggestion, my cell phone rang.

"It's a payphone with a Maryland area code," I said after looking at the display.

"Mike and Carolyn," he said with concern as I answered the call.

"Goren."

"Hey Alex," Mike said with his usual tone of casual cynicism. "How're you looking for bail money?"

"Bail?" I repeated. "What's going on?"

"Me and Carolyn are at the Chevy Chase precinct," he told me. "We're both under arrest."

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Connie POV**

* * *

It may sound cliché, but the first time that I met Lupo, I had a sense that my life was about to change.

For the better.

Before, I was all about the job.

And maybe that was because of previous bad experiences, I don't know.

For some reason, before now, I'd always managed to attract the wrong kind of guy.

In college, I'd been the victim of date rape. And that was back when it hadn't really been called that as much as just frat boys being frat boys.

I'd reported it to the campus security, but the general consensus had been that I just needed to get over it and get with the program.

That had been a traumatic experience to say the least.

Yet I couldn't wish that it had never happened because it caused me to change my priorities.

I began to study more and I got interested in the law.

So ultimately, the result was that I'd become an attorney.

My first year out of law school, I met a guy.

Another lawyer.

I'd thought that I was in love with him and so after a month of dating, I agreed to move in with him.

But it didn't last.

And why not?

Because three months into the relationship his true colors came through.

He'd come home after losing a case in an embarrassing fashion.

And did he unwind like a normal person? Did he fix a drink, or want to talk about what had happened, or find some other equally common method of shaking the disappointment of his day?

No.

He'd hit me.

Without preamble, without provocation, and without warning.

I could remember it like it was yesterday.

I'd been standing in the kitchen, opening a bottle of white wine.

See, I'd won my case. And I was feeling pretty good.

But he'd walked in and taken one look at me and then crossed the room and caught me with an uppercut to the jaw.

I'm ashamed to say that I went down to the floor on the first hit, taking with me the bottle of wine that I'd been holding.

Wine went everywhere, although oddly the bottle itself didn't break.

I could clearly remember pondering the sturdiness of the glass as I was lying on the floor in pain and stunned silence.

And he hadn't stopped there.

"Get up!" he'd yelled as he kicked me in the side. "Get the fuck up!"

He'd grabbed onto my arm and jerked me to my feet.

But my daddy didn't raise me to be a pushover.

I'd stood up, with the bottle still in my hand, and before he could hit me again, I'd swung it with everything I had.

The bottle caught him in the temple and knocked him out cold, which was convenient for me because it gave me time to pack up my belongings and get out of the apartment.

I'd spent the next week at my brother's in Miami.

I'd told him that a defendant had gotten loose in the courthouse and had hit me.

I also told him that maybe I needed a little break from the law, so he'd helped me get a job at the school where he worked and I moved into an available apartment in his building.

I lived in Miami and taught kindergarten for an entire school year.

It was so far from what had previously been my life that it felt completely surreal.

But then it was time for me to face reality.

I was being a coward. I was hiding out.

So, I'd gathered my courage, said goodbye to my brother, and moved back to New York.

I found an apartment, and got a job, and I never looked back.

But I also never really dated.

I mean, I went on dates.

_Safe_ dates.

But I'd vowed that I would never again live with anyone.

And never again would I allow myself to fall in love.

Until now.

Something about Lupo had made me throw caution to the wind.

I'd certainly done it that first night.

It had taken him several weeks to work up the nerve to ask me out and when he finally did, I'd accepted. I was interested in getting to know him better.

But then he'd knocked on my door and he'd looked so…cute and sexy and sweet and I…I couldn't help myself. I hadn't had sex with anyone in a long time, mostly because I didn't trust my own judgment, but I felt like I could trust _him_.

So as he'd stood shyly in my doorway, ostensibly waiting for me to get my coat, I'd been picturing what it would be like to make love to him.

The image was so clear and…well, _arousing_ that I hadn't been able to control myself.

I'd dropped my coat and put my arms around him and kissed him.

Without a doubt, I'd caught him off guard.

But he recovered quickly and it wasn't long before my mental picture became a reality.

Only it was much better in real life than in my head.

I'd been slightly nervous that our backwards start to a relationship would spell trouble, but it didn't.

I'd also been apprehensive that I was getting in over my head.

I was laying it all on the line, _again_, for a man.

I was just asking to get hurt.

But somehow I knew that Lupo wouldn't hurt me.

And despite the fact that he has a temper, I also knew that he would never raise a hand to me.

We've been together for six months and we've certainly had some knock-down drag-out fights.

He could be ornery and obstinate and moody.

And I could be overbearing and bossy and…well…moody, too.

So there were definitely times when we clashed.

But never once have I ever been afraid of him.

And always, every time, he's admitted fault when it was his for the taking.

He was a proud man but he didn't let it get in the way of what was right.

And another interesting realization.

I've never, ever thought that I was the marrying kind.

At least, not since that incident at college. Since then, I'd been focused on being a career woman.

My job was important to me.

But Lupo gets that, and he respects it.

And suddenly for some reason, I've been thinking a lot about marriage.

But then this thing with Alex's sister happened, and it stirred up a pot full of memories for me.

I didn't know Cathy, but I liked Alex and I loathed the idea that any man thought that it was okay to hit a woman.

So I'd bent the rules a bit. I'd hoped that maybe if we held onto the guy in lock-up for awhile, then maybe Cathy would agree to follow through.

But she didn't. And then, of course, he'd hit her again.

As upset as I was by the additional assault, I was thrilled when Alex told me that Cathy was prepared to press charges. _And_ she wanted a restraining order.

I fast-tracked both requests and had them ready for Cathy's signature when Alex brought her by the courthouse.

I'd given Cathy a casual once-over as she was reading over the documents.

"He went for the body this time. Dr. Rodgers took pictures," Alex told me quietly.

Not much gets by her. She'd known exactly what I was thinking.

"I'll get them from her, but I'll just keep them in the file," I told her.

I wouldn't use them unless I had to. I didn't want to make Cathy feel like any more of a victim than she already did.

After they left, I called Lupo to give him the news. I wasn't sure how Ross would feel about his MCS detectives making an arrest for domestic abuse, but I had a feeling that he'd look the other way.

My day was crazy, so I didn't get to hear details on how the arrest went down. I hoped that there was some bloodshed involved on Travis' part.

And yeah, maybe I was reliving my past a little bit. Maybe I felt shame for never having filed charges against my own abusive boyfriend. Because by just leaving, I'd left him wide open to do it again to the next woman who entered his life.

When I finally got a break late in the day, I was able to do a little research and get confirmation of my suspicion.

I found an old restraining order that had been taken out by Barry Brubaker against Sheri Sexton in September of 2007.

I got a copy of the TRO, complete with supporting documentation, and called Lupo.

"How much do you love me?" I asked him when he answered. I was still at my desk, so I kept my voice low to keep from being overheard.

"You have to ask?"

"No," I replied immediately.

Because I didn't.

Ever since that night at Steve-O's when he'd trumped me by saying the L-word first, he'd been pretty vocal about his feelings.

"But however much, it's gonna be more," I added.

"Impossible. But tell me anyway."

So I told him what I had found and said that I'd email the details.

"I owe you," he told me.

"Yes you do," I replied, but I didn't really mean it. We didn't keep track of things like that.

We just did things for each other because we could and because we wanted to.

That night, I went home to an empty apartment.

Well, not completely empty. Otto was there.

I hadn't really expected Lupo to be at home since I knew that he'd be chasing down the lead I'd given him.

So I changed into comfortable clothes and took Otto for a walk.

The dog was Lupo's, but he'd quickly defected and become a mama's boy.

And I never thought I'd be one of those people who referred to herself as _mama_ to a dog, but I was.

"Find a spot, Otto. Mama's cold," I told him as we stood in the small patch of grass near the apartment.

We'd done two laps around the block, but I was still waiting for him to do what he had to do.

"Mama should've worn a coat."

I turned around quickly, amazed that Lupo had been able to sneak up behind me.

"You're home," I said, unable to keep the smile from my face. "Does that mean the TRO was a dead end?"

"No," he said as he slipped out of his heavy leather jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. "It means it opened up too many doors for us to justify staying late tonight. It'll still be there in the morning."

"That's good, huh?"

"That's very good. Did you know that Matt Harker used to work in MCS?"

"The guy from the report?" I asked. "No. I don't remember him."

"I replaced him," he told me. Otto had finally taken care of business, so we headed inside the building and over to the elevator.

"And he's involved?"

"We're not sure. I don't know why he would be, but I find it odd that a guy he helped during a stalking situation in DC has suddenly turned up dead in New York now that Harker is also in New York. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said thoughtfully. We got off the elevator and went into the apartment. "So you guys are going to talk to him?"

"Uh huh. We called him tonight, but just got voice mail, so we'll try again in the morning."

"Where is he now?"

"OCCB. According to Bernard, Ross benched him after only a week or so. Something about the guy having a direct line to the big man."

"He's a brass pet?" I asked in amusement.

I got a couple of beers out of the fridge and handed one to Lupo.

I'd never explained to him why I can't drink white wine.

He asked me once. He said that he'd expected a girl like me to be a wine kind of girl.

I'd played it off and made some kind of joke about it instead of telling him the real reason.

Maybe I'd have to tell him about that some time soon.

"I think he wanted to be. But the banishment from MCS may have stalled him out. Ross is the one who's in good with the commissioner now."

"Your interview should be interesting then."

I took a drink of my beer, but as I pulled it away from my lips, Lupo took it from my hand. He set both of our bottles on the counter and then pulled me into his arms.

"Thanks for your help today," he said quietly.

"You're very welcome."

We stood in a silent embrace for several long minutes. I wondered what was running through his mind.

Sometimes, I think he saw things during the course of his job that made him want to hold onto me a little tighter. I liked knowing that I was a source of comfort for him. He was definitely one for me as well because sometimes I had those days, too.

He inhaled deeply, his face in the crook of my neck.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice soft and rumbling.

"You mean with us?"

"Yeah."

His uncertainty nearly broke my heart.

"I'm very happy," I assured him. "Happier than I've ever been."

"Good," he replied, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Me, too."

The next day, Saturday, we both got up and got ready for work. When he was in the middle of a case, he tended to put in a lot of hours, and so I took advantage of that time to get extra work done, too.

"Dinner tonight?" he asked me as we stood on the sidewalk and prepared to part ways.

"Sure," I agreed. "Do you want to invite anyone else?"

"No. Just us," he answered. He gave me a smile, that cute almost little boy smile of his that always made my heart jump, and then he kissed me goodbye.

"I'll call you later," he promised.

I worked throughout the morning, getting a jump start on a brief that I knew Mike was going to ask me to handle on Monday.

At noon, I got a call from Alex.

"How is Cathy doing?" I asked her when I answered.

"Oh, um…she's fine. This is about something else."

"Okay. What can I do for you?"

"Mike and Carolyn are in jail in Chevy Chase."

"Maryland?" I asked in surprise. "For what?"

"Can I explain it on the way?" she asked hesitantly. "We were kind of hoping you'd ride down there with us. Mike called asking about bail money, but I think it's going to be a little more complicated than that."

"I'm at the office," I told her.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

By the time I shut down my computer and went down to the lobby and out the front door, Alex and Bobby were there waiting for me.

"Give it to me," I said as I buckled myself into the backseat.

"I'm not sure how much you know," Bobby said. "But Carolyn has been trying to track down A.J. Hemmings."

"The reporter who published that crap article," I supplied.

"Right," he said with a wry grin. "Carolyn got a lead that she was in an apartment in Chevy Chase, so she and Mike went down this morning to check it out. When they got there, the apartment across the hall was being robbed."

"What? Across the hall?"

"Yeah, I know. It sounds like something that would happen to _us_," Alex said.

"Anyway," Bobby continued. "They entered that apartment with their guns drawn in an effort to stop the robbery. Those two guys had guns, and it turned into a shootout."

"Are Mike and Carolyn okay?"

"They're fine. The other guys are both dead."

"Did they explain their story to the police?"

"Yeah," Alex answered. "But they handcuffed them anyway and took them in for processing. Maryland doesn't have reciprocity for the CCW, so they're both being charged with possession of a firearm, discharging the firearm, use of a firearm in the commission of a felony, and of course, murder."

"Murder? They're charging them with murder?"

"See why we called you?"

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Logan POV**

* * *

The charges were preposterous, but if I wanted to reach for the positive, I'd have to say that at least I wasn't in a _Chicago_ jail.

And my cellie was my wife. We were the only two in the holding cell.

"Every have any kind of prison fantasy?" I asked her with a half-grin after the officer left us alone.

And it's not that I was taking the situation lightly. I wasn't.

Because we were in it deep.

But I'd called the Gorens, and they'd promised to come down. For the time being, there wasn't much more we could do.

"You mean like a sex thing?" Carolyn asked me. "Are you serious?"

"Sweetheart, I'm just thrilled that it's you in here with me instead of four big guys named Spike."

She nodded in understanding and sat down next to me on the hard bench.

"What do you think we stumbled into?"

"You mean do I think that it's related? I have no idea."

"What are the odds of that happening across the hall from where we tracked A.J. Hemmings?"

"I don't know."

We'd never even gotten the opportunity to find out if she was at home.

We'd called the CCPD and then we'd taken a few moments to make a quick pass through the apartment that was being robbed.

No one else was at home.

It appeared as though two people lived there.

Two men, each in their own bedroom.

There was mail on the kitchen table addressed to Lawrence Fowler.

The two dead men had ID.

Anthony Scheerer and William Powell.

The really weird thing was that they were both from New Jersey, just outside of the city.

"Why would two thugs from Jersey be raiding a Maryland apartment?" Carolyn posed.

"Well…obviously this Pebo guy killed someone. And that someone had information of some kind. Our two yoyos were looking for it."

"Oh, well that clears it up," she replied with a roll of her eyes. Her smile softened the sarcasm, as did her hand on my leg. "So the murder victim was either Fowler or whoever else was living in that apartment. I wonder if the cops have found a body yet."

"Good question. And did the murder happen here? Or were those boys down from Jersey because that's where it happened? Maybe Pebo is from up there, too. We need to check recent murders and see if any of them match up."

"To what? We don't even know the other guy's name."

Which I agreed was pretty strange. I mean, how many people's homes had no trace of their name anywhere?

Although, she didn't know what I'd found.

"No we don't. But we know his initials," I told her with a grin.

"We do?"

"Well…_I_ do. I mean, I can't help it if you don't know how to absorb a scene quickly and assess every little detail…" I teased.

She punched me on the arm.

"You're going to wish you were back in that Chicago jail if you don't tell me what you found," she threatened.

It was crazy, really. We were sitting in here awaiting being booked on charges of murder and yet she and I were both in playful moods.

Maybe it was the aftermath of being in a gunfight, I don't know. But I guess it was better than slipping into depression.

"B.B. I saw the initials on a stack of handkerchiefs in a drawer in the bedroom."

"Huh," she replied dismissively.

"What, that's all I get?"

"Well, I don't know. Those handkerchiefs could've been picked up at Goodwill. B.B. might not be the initials of the roommate. It could be anything."

"Anything?"

"I think that maybe what I found was better."

"What did you find?" I asked quickly.

I hadn't realized she'd found anything.

Although, we'd barely had a chance to finish our innocuous search when the police had arrived and obviously things had gone downhill from there.

"A data stick," she whispered into my ear.

"What? Where is it?"

"It was made to look like a key. I noticed it hanging on the key rack next to the door. I added it to my keychain. As soon as we get out of here and gather our personal effects…"

I can't help myself. Her savvy makes me hot.

"You are just the smartest…" I began, but I didn't finish because I had to kiss her instead. I leaned into her and kissed her hard.

And then, because we were alone in a jail cell, and hey - maybe _I've_ had a prison fantasy or two – so instead of keeping it innocent, I wrapped my arms around her back and pulled her up against me, deepening the kiss.

She broke it off after a few minutes, but tipped her head back, offering me her neck. I worked my way from her jaw down to her collarbone as she let out a contented sigh.

"I'm not having sex with you in a jail cell," she murmured.

"Oh, so then you're just being a tease?"

"I'm just passing time."

"I can make it go by even better," I offered as I slid my hand into the back of her pants.

"I have…no doubt…that you could," she managed to say. "But still…"

"I know," I agreed reluctantly.

I let her go and sat back against the wall.

The place _was _pretty filthy.

So we killed the next few hours deliberating what might be on the data stick that she'd recovered. Stolen. Whatever.

"We're still going to have to go back to that building," she reminded me.

"Assuming we're not held without bail."

"We'll get out. We only fired in self-defense," she said confidently.

"We were in someone else's apartment."

"So were the guys we killed. We were protecting innocent civilians."

"Who weren't home at the time and who were in no imminent danger."

"One of them might already be dead. Is _probably_ already dead."

"Yeah, and you know what? It sounded like a hit, don't you think?" I asked her. "I mean, they thought we'd been sent by C-Dog. Do people really use names like that anymore?"

"I guess so," she said with a shrug. Then she sighed heavily and checked her watch. "How long do you think it'll take them to get down here?"

"I don't know. I don't know where they were when I called. Lower Manhattan maybe, if they were checking out that lead in the kidnapping."

"Time seems to stand still when you're behind bars, doesn't it?"

"How many times have you been behind bars?" I asked her, chuckling a little bit because I was pretty sure this was her first time.

"In America?" she quantified with an enigmatic smile.

"Anywhere," I answered.

I was now very, _very_ curious. What else did I not know about my wife?

"Oh, um…there was this one time in Panama, but that was kind of a misunderstanding. Um…in California once…um…Mexico City…"

"You spent time in a Mexican jail?" I asked her incredulously. "How did I not know this?"

"Well…it's not exactly pillow talk. Besides, it was a long time ago and I didn't have any kind of serious weight on me," she said with a shrug. "I only did a few months."

"Carolyn!"

"Okay. I'm kidding," she admitted with a wide grin. "This is my first time."

She started laughing, and I had to join in.

She'd had me – hook, line, and sinker.

Of course, with a woman like her it was really hard to say.

I mean, yeah, it would've surprised me to learn that she'd done time in Mexico, but yet if anyone could survive it and be none the worse for wear, it would be her.

I mean look at her now.

We were sitting in jail with murder charges pending. She had blood on her coat, we hadn't eaten all day, and our future was up for grabs.

But she was laughing.

She's an incredible woman.

"Sounds like you two are having a little too much fun in here. Should we come back?"

It was Alex, and Bobby was right behind her. Carolyn and I got up from the bench and walked over to the door of the cell.

"Please tell me you've paid our bail," I said.

"They're not offering bail yet," Bobby said. "It's not a flat fee for murder. What the hell kind of mess did you guys get into?"

"A Goren kind of mess," I replied.

Alex barked out a laugh and nodded her head.

"That's exactly what I said to Connie."

"Rubirosa? You brought her with you?"

"Yeah, she's out giving what-for to the local DA and the arresting officers. And she is really worked up, so I imagine that you two will be sprung within the hour."

I let out a sigh of relief. It was one thing to make the best out of a bad situation by keeping the mood light. But still…it was really nice to know that we had friends in high places.

"So give us the scoop," Alex said.

Carolyn and I tag-teamed our recount of the events.

"And the stick is in your personal effects?" Bobby asked when we finished.

"Yeah," Carolyn said. "Of course, there may not be anything of value on it. But those two guys were looking for something. Evidence maybe. Maybe the murder victim was blackmailing this C-Dog, or maybe he was a witness to something. I don't know. We may never know if the stick is a bust."

"I'll call Lupo and see if he can check the wire for murder victims," Alex said. "Either Fowler or someone with the initials B.B."

"Here or there?" I asked her.

Just because the goons had Jersey driver's licenses didn't mean that they still lived there.

And it didn't mean that the murder had happened there.

Or here.

Hell, we really had no way of knowing where, or even when it had happened.

Other than that it was possibly recent since they were still searching for…whatever.

"I'll tell him to open it up nationwide. It'll take longer, and we'll get more false positives, but it should give us something to go on."

Alex went down the short hall and opened the door that led from the holding cell area into the squad room.

Connie's voice could easily be heard over the din of the afternoon shift.

Alex paused, holding the door open, so that we could all listen.

"Do you want me to get the A.G. on the phone? Because I will. I'll go over your head in a second if you're going to stand there and honestly tell me that you think what happened in that apartment today was murder. Your two victims each have sheets a mile long and they were committing a felony when they were approached by the investigators!"

I couldn't hear the DA's response, but I heard Connie scoff derisively.

"I _am_ licensed in the state of New York, but I am also board certified in the state of Maryland," she nearly shouted. "And New Jersey and Connecticut and Pennsylvania. Do you have any relevant questions, or I can I get my clients released now?"

"There will be a fine for the weapons charges," the DA called out as I heard Connie's heels clicking in our direction.

"We'll pay it on our way out the door," she assured him.

After another minute, she came into view as Alex continued to hold the door open until Connie entered the hall.

"Nice job, Counselor," I told her sincerely. "I could've used you in Chicago."

She stood outside of our cell and she seemed to be nearly vibrating with anger.

"Guys like that have no business being members of the bar," she said fiercely. "He's a real piece of work."

"Sounds like you had him on his heels though," Alex said. She must have decided to table her phone call for the moment since our release was imminent.

"Yeah," she agreed with a nod. "You'll both be fined for illegally transporting concealed weapons into the state, but that's it. Everything else is dropped. Give me the Cliff notes while we wait for Barney Fife to come and unlock the cell."

"We won't be able to thank you enough," Carolyn told her after we'd finished filling her in. Connie waved off Carolyn's statement of gratitude as though driving four hours and fighting with a DA was everyday fodder.

"According to the cops, Lawrence Fowler is the name on the lease," Connie said. "But you think that another guy was living there?"

"It looks that way. Clothes in both closets, different sizes," I told her. "But we couldn't find a name anywhere that would indicate the second occupant. But one of those two guys is dead."

"Yeah, I was getting ready to call Lupo to have him run it through the database," Alex said.

"I took a data stick from the apartment," Carolyn said, but Connie interrupted her.

"Oh, please don't tell me that. I really don't want to know."

"Why not? You're my lawyer, right? Attorney-client privilege?"

"Okay," she said with a nod. "You're right. So what's on it?"

"We don't know yet. We've been in jail," I reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she said with a shake of her head. "Sometimes I get caught up in the hunt."

An officer opened the door and walked down the hall. Without saying a word, he opened the cell door and then turned around and walked back out.

"Hospitable around here, aren't they?" I muttered as I followed Carolyn out of the cell.

"Let's get back to the city," Bobby said. "We can work most of this from there."

"We still need to find Hemmings," I said. "We never got to knock."

"So you're going back to the crime scene?" Connie asked me.

"No. I'm going to go back _across the hall_ from the crime scene."

"That's not a good idea. I mean, I got them to drop these charges, but if you guys keep snooping around, they're going to keep coming after you. They already suspect that you're involved somehow. They'll be keeping an eye on you."

"We'll go," Bobby said. "Connie, you ride back to the city with Mike and Carolyn. Alex and I will take a detour by the apartment complex and see if we can get a visual on Hemmings."

"Okay," I agreed. "We'll take a look at that data stick. Alex, go ahead and call Lupo."

"I'll call him," Connie said. "I need to let him know that I'm going to miss dinner. So we're looking for Fowler and who?"

"Some guy with the initials B.B."

She'd been pulling her phone from her purse, but she stopped when I said the initials.

"What is it?" Carolyn asked her.

"It would be a hell of a coincidence," Connie said, shaking her head.

"We're familiar with those," Alex commented. "What is it?"

"It's Lupo's case. His murder victim from John Jay Park. His name is Barry Brubaker."

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It was after ten when we finally got back home.

It had been a long day, much longer than I'd anticipated when we left the house this morning, but in our line of work that was often the case.

Our trip to Hemmings' apartment had proved fruitless.

No one was home.

We'd sat on it for an hour before I convinced Alex that since we'd already been accused of B&E what would one more hurt?

So she'd picked the lock in astonishingly little time and we'd gone inside.

But we'd found essentially nothing.

We found no proof of who lived in the apartment.

No personal effects.

There was no mail lying around, no identifying papers or documents.

It almost seemed like an apartment model, one that would be used for showing to potential renters.

Except that there were clothes in the closets. Women's clothes in one room and men's clothes in the other.

And food in the kitchen.

Although, most of the provisions were in the freezer or in the cabinet, which might indicate that someone didn't spend a lot of time in the apartment. There was no fresh fruit or vegetables, no milk or bread. Nothing with an impending expiration date.

"It's almost like a safe house," Alex commented as we prowled through the darkness.

And that was an interesting thought.

It made me think that maybe we ought to call Mary to gain some insight.

Tomorrow.

For tonight, I was just ready to turn off my brain.

Nothing was vital.

Nothing was pressing.

Mike and Carolyn were home.

Lupo and Bernard had made contact with the CCPD and were planning a trip to Maryland tomorrow.

So for now, it was time to relax.

"Cathy should be home soon," Alex said when we entered our dark, quiet apartment.

"She was getting off at ten?"

"That's what she said," she replied with a shrug.

And I knew what she was thinking. It was a good thing that Travis was still behind bars. Otherwise the whole shift might have been a ruse.

But since we knew for a fact that he was, we hadn't felt the need to follow up.

We were trying to trust her to do what she was supposed to do and then come home.

"So," I said as I took off my coat and hung it on the rack. "How long do you think we have before she gets here?"

"I don't know," she replied with a grin. "At least thirty minutes. Why? What did you have in mind?"

"It would be nice to not have to worry about how much noise I'm making," I said as I continued toward her. "Besides, you owe me."

"Really?" she teased as she backed into the wall between the kitchen and the hall. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure," I said. I put my hands on the wall, one on either side of her head, and then I leaned down and captured her lips.

It was strangely arousing to have the place to ourselves again, even though Cathy had really only been staying with us for about forty-eight hours.

Of course, it could just be Alex herself who was getting me hot and bothered. I guess that is what happened the _other _three hundred and sixty-three days out of the year.

"What do I owe you?" she asked huskily when I released her lips and reached for the hem of her sweater.

"I believe the terms were the sexual favor of my choice," I reminded her. I pulled the sweater off of her, along with the shirt she'd been wearing underneath.

"And your choice would be…" she offered coyly.

Ah, decisions, decisions.

And it was tough to think when she was unbuckling my belt, but I forced my brain into action.

"You know what I'd really like?" I asked her.

"Tell me," she said as she whipped the belt from the loops and then went to work on the zipper.

But the words froze on my lips at the sound of a knock on the door.

"Are you kidding me?" she muttered as she bent down to retrieve her sweater.

My belt was halfway down the hall, so I ignored it and headed for the door. I glanced back to make sure that she was dressed again, and then I looked through the peephole.

And then I stepped back as though I'd been burned.

"It's your dad," I whispered harshly.

And for some reason, I felt like I was about sixteen and I'd been busted with my girlfriend at her parents' house.

"Bobby, relax," she told me as she crossed the room and met me at the door. "We're married. You're allowed to be here."

"I know," I insisted, although I could feel the heat in my face and a stutter coming on.

I did _not_ need to be off my game around Johnny.

Not only that, but why was he here?

And what would happen if Cathy came home while he was still here?

"Alex," I said, putting my hand on her arm as she unlocked the deadbolt.

"Relax," she said again.

Then she opened the door.

"Hi, Dad," she said cheerfully. "This is unexpected. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, sweetheart. Can't I visit my daughter from time to time without needing a reason?"

"Of course," she said, opening the door further to let him in.

"Hello, Mr. Eames," I said, holding out my hand to him.

"Are we backtracking, Bobby? Didn't you call me Johnny last week at the poker game when you swindled me out of all of my money?"

How in the world was I supposed to respond to that? It was a compliment and a shot all in one.

"Um…no. I think I called you sir."

Johnny barked out a laugh and nodded his head.

"That you did," he conceded. "You always did have good manners."

I decided to just keep my mouth shut and wait to see what this visit was all about.

We'd been planning to invite him over, but we hadn't yet. This was the first time he'd seen our place since he'd picked it out for us. And yet it was after ten on a Saturday night.

Something was definitely up.

"Have a seat, Dad," Alex said, waving him into the living room.

He walked past me, and I don't know if he actually did or not, but I would swear that he took note of my missing belt.

I needed to get to it before he asked to use the bathroom or something because if he saw it lying in the hallway, then he would know.

And while he probably had a good idea that I was having sex with his daughter, I _really_ didn't want him to have that kind of proof that he'd nearly caught us in the act.

"So what's going on? How's Mom?" Alex asked when the three of us sat down in the living room.

The two of them were on the couch and I was in the recliner.

"She's fine. She misses you. She told me to ask if you two could come to dinner next weekend."

"We'll see what we can do," Alex agreed. "Right, Bobby?"

"Of course," I said.

"Good," Johnny said, nodding his head. I held my breath and waited for the low blow that was sure to come.

I mean, I liked the man.

I did.

He had raised Alex to be a strong, independent woman who didn't have to rely on anyone but herself.

The fact that she enjoyed being with me was a matter of choice rather than the idea that she felt like she needed a man in her life.

It made our relationship all that much more gratifying to me and for that, to him I was appreciative.

But still…the man did not care for me.

He felt adversarial toward me for some reason, and it didn't seem to matter what I said or did, I was just never quite up to snuff.

"So," Johnny said loudly. "Bobby. What's going on with Cathy?"

"Sir?" I asked after an extended pause.

"Dad," Alex began.

"No, Alex. I asked Bobby," he said, turning his gaze back to me. "A friend of mine saw the two of you today. You were driving, which I know you never do, and Cathy was in the car with you, and my friend said that the conversation looked very…personal. So I want you to tell me right now, in front of Alex. What's going on with you and Cathy?"

_Oh my God_.

This was worse than I thought.

He really thought that I was cheating on Alex with her sister? He was insane.

"Nothing," I said lamely.

How in the world was I going to explain this without spilling the beans?

To say I was in a full-on panic would be a complete understatement.

"Nothing? That's it?"

"Dad," Alex said again.

"No, Alex," Johnny said, getting up from the couch. "This man has charmed you into marrying him, he's derailed your career, he keeps you in danger on a daily basis, so much so that your mother and I hardly ever get to see you, and now he's going to disrespect you by carrying on with your sister? No. Absolutely not. It ends right here, right now. Bobby, you need to be a man and admit to what you've done."

"Dad!" Alex yelled as she jumped to her feet. She was livid and I was more than halfway there myself. The only thing keeping me from being completely enraged was shock and disbelief. He really thought so little of me?

"Alex, I'm not messing around here. I want you to sit down and…"

I'd heard enough when I realized where he was going. I got to my feet and jabbed my finger in his direction.

"Mr. Eames!" I said loudly, interrupting his directive to Alex. "With all due respect sir, you don't know what in the hell you're talking about. I drove Cathy to work today because she needed a ride."

"Why in the world would she ask you?" he yelled back.

"Because I'm staying with them, Dad. Leave Bobby alone."

I looked over Johnny's shoulder and saw Cathy standing in the doorway.

"Cathy?"

"You knew I left Steve," she said as she walked into the room. "And well, I left Travis, too. I came here Thursday night. Alex and Bobby are letting me stay here until I get my life in order."

"You're…you're…living here?"

"Temporarily," she said as she gave him a rough kiss on the cheek. Then she looked at me, her eyes filled with apology. "Ignore him, Bobby."

"I don't understand," Johnny mumbled.

"Well, let me lay it out for you, Dad," Alex said. And boy, was she hot. "You just accused my husband of cheating on me with my own sister simply because he gave her a ride to work. God, Dad, really? You think Joe walked on water, and _he _was the cheater. Bobby would never do anything like that, but yet you're quick to throw him to the wolves. What is wrong with you? Why can't you see that he's good for me, and that he loves me?"

"She's right, Dad," Cathy added.

I felt a surge of emotion at the idea that she was going to stand up for me.

"You don't know what goes on behind closed doors," Cathy continued. "No one does. If Alex says that Joe was a jerk, well…she would know. And really, why would she speak ill of the dead unless it was true? Have you ever known Alex to mince words about anyone?"

"Ah…no," Johnny admitted slowly.

"I'm not now, either," Alex said. "Bobby didn't have to charm me into marrying him. I _wanted _to. Even before _he_ wanted to. And as for our jobs…we each made our own decision. We just happened to make the same one.

"And maybe I don't spend as much time with my family as I should, but you make it pretty hard for me to want to, don't you think? When every time I come to see you, you put the man I love through the wringer? What kind of incentive is that for me to come to family dinners, huh? I even told him not to invite you to the poker games, because that's a rare chance for him to relax and enjoy himself with friends. But he insisted. And do you know why? Because it's important for him to get you to like him. But not for him. For me. Because he loves me that much."

I watched as Johnny stood with his mouth open and his eyes wide, the assault coming from both of his daughters.

"I'm…I…I don't know what to say."

"Start with _I'm sorry_ and work from there," Cathy said smartly. "In fact, I'll do it, too. Alex, I'm sorry," she said. "You, too, Bobby. I'm sorry."

She stepped up next to Alex and gave her a hug and then walked over to me. I wrapped my arms around her, still mindful of her bruised ribs, and whispered quietly into her ear.

"Thank you," I told her.

For apologizing to Alex.

For standing up to Johnny.

For apparently accepting responsibility.

It was a breakthrough night.

Almost.

I let go of Cathy, and the three of us looked expectantly at Johnny.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Bobby," he said after what felt like an eternity. I held out my hand to him, and he shook it stiffly. "I'm sorry I rushed to judgment about you," he added.

And there it was. An apology from Johnny Eames.

And here was my whole breakthrough night.

It was one for the record books.

And after the overly sentimental moment was over, we all looked at each other, and I offered to go into the kitchen to get everyone a drink.

The others sat down on the couch, and as I left the room, I heard Johnny ask Cathy a question.

"So, why are you living here?

I didn't wait to hear her response. Instead, I slipped down the hall and grabbed my belt. I tossed it into the bedroom and then went back to the kitchen for the drinks.

I'm much rather have been collecting on my bet right about now, but otherwise, as evenings went, this one was shaping up to be pretty good.

And I'd catch Alex on that bet later.

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**Steve POV**

* * *

I hung up with Cathy and just stared at the phone for several long minutes.

That was the most normal conversation I'd had with her since…I don't know when.

Definitely since before she'd left me.

Probably for months prior to that.

Her words and demeanor had given me hope that one of these days we might actually be able to work things out.

Because that's what I wanted to do.

I _wanted_ to work things out and be with her.

I'd made a promise to her on our wedding day, and I took that vow seriously.

And I loved her.

Even now.

Even knowing that she'd been unfaithful, I still loved her.

She was the mother of my son and for countless years she'd been my reason for getting up and going to work every day.

Of course, then I'd taken it to the extreme.

I'd gotten overly involved with work because I thought that was the right thing to do.

Get in as much overtime as I could.

Make more money.

Provide a better life for my wife and my son.

I mean, wasn't that a husband's job?

To be the provider and the protector?

But somewhere along the line, I'd slipped into the notion that those objectives were my _only_ job.

That nothing else mattered.

Somehow I forgot that my wife was a woman with feelings and needs.

See, I'm not so blind as to think that Cathy is solely to blame for our problems.

I added my fair share to the mix.

I didn't see that she was unhappy.

I didn't see how much I was overlooking her until I suddenly realized that she was spending a lot of time working on her appearance.

And it wasn't for my benefit.

It had clearly been for someone else.

She'd started getting calls on her cell phone that she wouldn't answer if I was in the room.

She'd started doing a lot of so-called girls' nights.

And then she'd finally admitted to me that she'd been the only girl at girls' night.

When she told me that she'd been going out, chatting up other men, accompanied by the fact that she was moving out, my first reaction had been extreme and intense anger.

Of course, I realized later that the rage was masking hurt and disappointment, as well as anger at myself, but at the time, I directed it entirely at her.

So I'm sure I played a role in her downward spiral.

But what was I supposed to do?

Just stand around while she played house with another man and act like it didn't bother me?

No.

_Hell _no.

I might seem like a pushover, but I'm not.

And as much as I did not want to be that man…that divorced dad…I also wasn't left with any choice.

That's what really made me mad.

She hadn't cared enough about our marriage to fight for it.

Instead, she'd just walked away.

If she was so unhappy, why didn't she talk to me? Or yell at me and insist that I be more attentive? Be more like the man she'd married?

If I'd changed so much, why didn't she call me out on it?

But maybe she'd tried.

Maybe she'd tried to talk to me and I didn't hear her because I was too busy worrying about our retirement funds that were slowly falling victim to the declining market.

I was worrying about my job security as co-workers around me were given pink slips.

I was worrying about being able to continue to provide her and Nate with the kind of life to which they'd become accustomed.

But money isn't everything.

And maybe if I'd realized that just a little sooner, I would've been able to hang onto my wife.

I could've shown her how much I loved her and how special she was to me.

But all of that was water under the bridge.

I couldn't go back and change things now, no matter how much I wished that I could.

And I wasn't going to judge Cathy for the things that she'd done.

We were co-conspirators in our failed marriage.

My concern now had to be for Nate. When Alex had called to tell me that she suspected Cathy of being on drugs…that had really thrown me.

At first, I'd been at a loss as to what to do. I just couldn't get past the basic fact that Cathy was doing coke. _My_ Cathy.

We'd been married for more than thirteen years and I'd never known her to do drugs. She didn't even like taking over the counter cold medicine.

But I trusted Alex. She wouldn't lie to me, not about something like that.

I knew that Alex hadn't been a big fan of me over the years. I don't think that she ever _dis_liked me, but she never really liked me all that much either.

And maybe she saw what I was doing to Cathy even before either of us did.

I don't know.

But I guess at some point in the past month, I'd won her over.

Maybe because of my commitment to Nate in the wake of Cathy's abandonment.

It was a testament to her character that she didn't despise me on principle since I was the soon-to-be ex-husband.

But I was glad that she was giving me a chance, because I really liked her.

I liked Bobby a lot, too. I knew him more by reputation as a detective than as family because we hadn't really spent a lot of time together since he and Alex had gotten together, but I'd only ever heard good things.

In fact, one of the techs in my department at the 3-8 had been banned from saying the name _Goren_.

See, he'd spent some time in years past handling crime scenes for the MCS and he was apparently awestruck by Bobby's ability to pick up on the smallest of details, so when he started working with us, he would always mention how _Detective Goren_ would've seen this or _Detective Goren_ would've noticed that.

We'd even teased him, saying that maybe he was in love with Detective Goren.

That's when he'd commented on the fact that Detective Goren was clearly head over heels in love with Detective Eames.

That had been about three years ago.

So I was happy for Alex that she had someone like him.

Most people didn't realize it, but Joe had always had a wandering eye. He hadn't been able to appreciate what was right in front of him.

Of course, I guess I'd done the same thing to Cathy.

I mean, I hadn't cheated. I've never done that.

But by not really seeing her, I'd been pushing her away.

"Dad?" Nate called to me, shaking me from my thoughts. He'd been up getting ready for bed while I talked to Cathy.

She'd called during her break from work so that she could say goodnight to him.

Two nights in a row. That was a good thing.

And like I said, when I'd gotten on the phone with her, she'd almost seemed like her old self.

I couldn't help but feel hopeful.

"I miss you," I'd ventured to tell her. The words had bounced around in my head until they finally rolled out.

I wasn't sure how she'd respond, but it was the truth.

And maybe I'd spent too many years not vocalizing my emotions.

She was quiet for a minute and I wished desperately that I could see her face. Saying the words had made the feeling that much more poignant.

I _did_ miss her. I missed her a lot.

"I miss you, too," she'd said at last. "And…I'm sorry for…for a lot."

"Me, too."

Silence reined for another long moment and then she sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. My break's over."

"Okay. I'm glad you called."

"Me, too. I'll call tomorrow. If…if that's okay."

"Call any time," I'd assured her.

I climbed the stairs to my son's room where he was waiting for me to read the next chapter in his book.

Bobby had mentioned that maybe they'd come by, but he'd called earlier to tell me that they'd had to go out of town and wouldn't be back in time.

But maybe tomorrow.

In fact, maybe I'd see if he and Alex would spend a couple of hours with Nate so that Cathy and I could talk.

Because even though I was pushing ahead with the divorce and the sole custody petition that didn't mean that I wasn't open to the possibility of reconciliation.

We'd have to take it slow, of course, but maybe…just maybe I could get my life back.

* * *

Alex POV

My dad may have apologized to Bobby, but I was still shaking with anger.

I sat on the couch and kept my mouth shut while Cathy began to give him the watered down version of what had been going on with her life.

But I was barely paying attention.

My dad had accused Bobby of _cheating_?

"I'm sorry, Cathy," I said crossly as I got up from the couch. "But Dad, I've got to tell you that I am so disappointed in you."

"You're…disappointed in…_me_?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah, that's a nice switch, huh?" I asked smartly.

"You need to watch your tone with me," he warned.

"What are you going to do? Ground me? Put me across your knee? Or maybe you'll just insult my husband who, by the way, has never had one cross word to say about you no matter how many times you've been rude to him."

"Alex…"

"Oh, wait. You're right. You've already done that."

"I told him that I was sorry," he said obstinately.

"And that's just supposed to fix everything? I've been asking you for _months_ to give him a chance. To quit trying to compare him to the aggrandized image you have of Joe. But you couldn't do it. And then you had to jump on the first bit of ammunition that you thought you'd found, and you came into our _home_ and accused him of something like that. I'm just…you know, sometimes sorry just doesn't cut it."

I walked over to Cathy and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I told her quietly. "I just couldn't sit there and…"

"It's okay," she said with an understanding nod.

And it hit me as I brushed past my father without another word that maybe it had been a good thing for Cathy to witness that.

Maybe she would realize that not everything was perfect in my world.

_Although some things are_, I thought as I turned the corner and found Bobby in the kitchen.

He had his coat on and was holding mine in his hands.

"Walk?" he asked as he helped me into my coat.

"I think that's a great idea."

We left the apartment and started walking.

We went nearly two blocks before I finally quit rehashing what my father had said and instead started thinking about how his words might have made Bobby feel.

I mean, I knew how they made _me_ feel.

Homicidal.

But Bobby…for him, being thought of as a potential adulterer was about the worst thing ever. He'd gone to great lengths to avoid the sins of his father and yet my dad had turned around and callously accused him of being just that.

Like his father.

Of course, my dad didn't _know_ that, but still…it didn't make it any better.

"You think she's going to tell him everything?" Bobby asked me after we'd gone several more blocks.

"No. She won't tell him about the beating. Or about the drugs. It's probably better that he doesn't know the details anyway. Eventually, she'll get her feet back underneath her. If he knows too much, he'll never get over it, even after she does."

"You mean like he never got over Joe's death."

"Something like that," I agreed on a sigh. "Bobby, I'm…I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to apologize for your father," he insisted. "He's going to think what he wants. We can't make him change his mind about me."

"You know, I thought after he put our picture on the mantle that maybe he'd turned a corner."

"It really bothers you, doesn't it?" he asked gently.

He was worried about _me_.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Only for how it affects you," he answered. "I can't make him like me, but I'm also comfortable enough with who I am to not let it get to me. I have a lot of friends. And I have you. I must be doing something right."

His confidence sent me into stunned silence.

"You thought I'd be more upset about his accusation, didn't you?" he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I did. I've been working on a speech in my mind, a little something to convince you that I knew you'd never cheat on me."

"Oh. Well, go ahead."

"With…"

"With your speech. Let's hear it."

"Well, not if you don't need it."

"Maybe I do need it," he teased.

"I don't think you do," I replied.

"Okay, I'll give it," he said. "I would never cheat on you because…no one could possibly be any better than you in bed."

"Bobby!" I said on a laugh. I stopped walking and turned towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You're supposed to say it's because you respect our commitment."

"Oh yeah, that," he agreed casually as he slowly leaned closer to me. "But also because of that thing you can do with your…"

I didn't wait for him to finish.

Instead, I kissed him.

A shot of excitement and emotion rolled through me as I realized how far we'd come.

He was truly secure in my love for him.

He was confident in his own sense of worth. So confident, in fact, that he was able to joke about my father's suspicions.

"Your father will come around," he told me when I finally stepped back from him and we continued along the sidewalk.

"And if he doesn't?" I asked.

"Then he doesn't," he said with a shrug. "It's not like I don't have experience dealing with difficult fathers."

"That's true," I agreed. "But you shouldn't have to."

"And Alex?" he began as we turned the corner at the end of the block.

"Yeah?"

"There are so many reasons why I would never cheat that I can't even begin to say them all out loud. It would take me all night. And the idea that your dad thinks I would only shows how little he knows about me. And about you. So maybe we just need to spend a little more time around him and let him figure it out for himself."

"You want to spend _more_ time around my dad?"

"I'm just saying…the more we tell him, the less he believes it. But you know the old saying. Actions speak louder than words."

"Maybe you're right," I mused. I hadn't really considered that aspect. My dad had known Joe fairly well. They'd spent a lot of time together, with and without me.

And true, he'd been a lot friendlier back then, but still…

"Maybe I'm right?" Bobby repeated. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right."

I laughed out loud at his lighthearted cockiness and nudged him with my shoulder as we made the last turn back towards home.

"You're not _always_ right," I argued with a smile. His mood was contagious.

"Sure I am."

"Uh uh. I don't think so."

"Name a time. Name a time when I was wrong."

"Just one?" I teased.

He barked out a laugh and let go of my hand so that he could wrap his arm around my shoulder.

"No, okay. I know a time," he said. "I can be man enough to admit it."

"You're going to tell me a time when the great Bobby Goren was wrong?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's hear it."

And suddenly the teasing was over. He stopped and leaned against a wall before pulling me to him.

"I used to think that I wasn't good enough for you. That you deserved so much better."

"And now?" I asked him as a pang of sadness went through me at the idea that he thought so little of himself.

I mean, I'd known it, but still…

"Now I think that maybe I am good enough. Because there's no one in this world who will treat you better or love you more than me," he said just before he brought his lips to mine.

It was a slow, gentle exploration that was infused with emotion and it was several long minutes before we finally broke apart.

I gave him a smile and ran my hand along his cheek.

"I've known that for a long time."

"Well, you always were the smart one," he replied. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Do you think he's gone?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. He grabbed my hand again and we resumed walking. "But I'm ready to go to bed, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I agreed.

And I was.

I was tired and I just wanted to strip down to nothing and get under the covers with Bobby.

"Maybe we can pick up where we left off earlier," he suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Oh yeah," I said with a smile. "You were going to tell me what you want me to do."

"Uh huh."

"And? Are you going to tell me now?"

He didn't reply, but instead he tugged on my hand and increased his pace.

"Uh uh. I think I'd rather show you."

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: NCIC = a national database of criminal justice information that is maintained by the FBI. It is available to all levels of law enforcement

* * *

**Lupo POV**

* * *

Connie's phone call had brought about dual emotions and it took every ounce of professionalism I possessed to ignore one and focus on the other.

The case.

Mike and Carolyn had stumbled onto the possible abode of our murder victim, Barry Brubaker.

"Chevy Chase PD has taken over the scene," she told me.

"And all we have is the initials on the handkerchiefs?"

"They only had a few minutes to look through the apartment," she reminded me. "But I'm sure if you call down here and speak with one of their officers, they'll be happy to give you whatever information you need."

Of course, she was being facetious. I could tell from her tone of voice that her experience thus far in Maryland had been less than stellar.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied. "Maybe me and Bernard will just drive down there tomorrow and check it out for ourselves."

"It might not even be the same guy."

"I know. But we know that our vic was trying to stay under the radar. And we know that he spent time in that area. It would make sense. Now who is the other guy?"

"Lawrence Fowler. And maybe _he's_ the one who's dead," she said. "All we know is that some guy named Pebo supposedly killed one of the two residents of that apartment."

"And a guy named C-Dog is the next level up."

"Right."

"Okay. I'll check NCIC for recently discovered dead bodies and try to get a hit on either Fowler or on a different B.B. We'll also check it for any information on Pebo and C-Dog. Hopefully one of them has a record."

"Do you know how many hits you're going to get on an alias like Pebo?" she asked lightly.

"Probably about as many as I'm going to get on a name like C-Dog," I commiserated. "We'll have our work cut out for us, but at least it's something."

I ran my hand over my face and looked across my desk at Bernard. He appeared to be engrossed in a data search on the computer, but I had a feeling that he was listening.

Although, I didn't really care anymore. Connie and I weren't a secret and he'd mostly quit teasing me about it.

"Are you on the way home?"

"Just," she said. "It'll be after eight, at least."

"I'll meet you at home. Tell Mike and Carolyn that we'll get together tomorrow and compare notes."

"Okay."

I hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute, trying to shake off my disappointment.

I'd really been looking forward to having dinner with her tonight.

But this was our life.

Sometimes she got held up and sometimes I did.

Dinner could wait.

"Okay, here's where we are," I said to Bernard. I filled him in on what I'd just learned from Connie.

"So what does this mean?"

I shook my head, at a loss for words.

It could mean everything. Or nothing.

Barry Brubaker could've been living in that apartment. Or not.

Pebo might've killed him on C-Dog's orders. Or not.

And for some reason, coincidentally or not, this apartment was across the hall from where Bernard's ex-girlfriend had run to after recording their conversations and writing libelous articles.

That was really the only fact.

Hemmings was living across the hall from a guy who'd been killed. And who'd been hiding something that C-Dog wanted.

Whether or not it related to our John Jay Park vic remained to be seen.

But to think that it all tied together was almost too fantastic.

I had pretty much convinced myself that those could _not_ be the facts because it was just too unbelievable.

And I was giving myself a headache.

"Start fresh in the morning?" Bernard asked me, clearly sensing my bewilderment. "We can order the reports and they'll be on our desks when we get here."

"That sounds…like a really good idea."

So we ordered the reports and clocked out.

"Do you want to get a drink?" I asked Bernard.

It wasn't like I was in a hurry to get home. We had a teenager in our building who walked Otto for us when we weren't around, and Connie would be a few more hours.

"Sure, Lupes. Let's do it."

It was Saturday night so McNally's was crowded, but we managed to find two stools at the bar. We each ordered a beer and after the bartender served us, I grabbed my drink and turned around to survey the crowd.

"Check it out, Lupes," Bernard said quietly. "Five o'clock. She's looking at you."

As if I had any interest at all.

And really, at the realization that the woman in question was in fact staring at me with open interest, I was surprised by how little I cared.

I mean, I'd been in relationships before.

And I wasn't a dog. I didn't cheat.

But it had certainly never bothered me to be the object of another woman's attention from time to time.

I mean, there was no harm in looking, right?

It had always been a nice little ego boost to know that other women found me attractive.

But the weird thing here was that I didn't even want to look.

I wanted to be home watching TV with Connie.

"She's coming this way," he said.

And she was.

Tall, very nice-looking, impeccably dressed, and clearly on the prowl.

Six months ago, I might've been interested.

But not now.

Not with the heavy weight of diamond and platinum in my pocket.

"Hi," she said when she finally made it through the crowd and came to a stop directly in front of me. "I'm Kim."

"Nice to meet you," I said, avoiding giving her my name. I did shake her hand though, and then tipped my head towards Bernard. "This is my friend Kevin."

I stood up from the bar stool and put my hand on her shoulder, leaning in close to speak into her ear.

"You know that cop show that they film down the street?" I asked her. She nodded. "He works on the set. Security"

"Really?" she asked with interest. I gave her a nod and a smile and then winked at Bernard when she shifted her focus to him.

I pulled a ten from my wallet and threw it on the bar.

"So do you get to carry a gun?" she asked him coyly as she ran her hand over his chest.

I held back my laughter until I was far enough away to be out of earshot.

Yeah, he was going to get laid.

Maybe that would help him get over his depression about Janelle.

Or A.J.

Or whatever she was calling herself these days.

Me, I was just happy to get out of there.

It wasn't my thing anymore, and realizing that made me all that much more sure about my decision.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I'm not going to lie.

It had messed with my mind a little.

Johnny's accusation was completely absurd and totally unfounded, but still…for a brief moment he'd made me feel common and unworthy.

He'd made me flashback to all those years ago when my dad would come home smelling of scotch and perfume.

I'd promised myself that I'd never be _that _guy.

_And I wasn't that guy_, I reminded myself.

Him saying it didn't make it so.

In fact, it was ridiculous to even consider because not only had I never cheated on any woman but on Alex?

It was just…almost funny.

The man was grasping at straws.

And as I realized that, for a second, I almost understood him.

He was fighting desperately to hang onto any sense of control he could get.

His children were grown and had long-since stopped going to him for advice.

His wife had suffered a stroke, and while she'd nearly made a full recovery, he'd added her burdens to his in order to keep the stress at a minimum. For _her_. He'd disregarded the fact that it made things that much more difficult for _him_.

And not only that, but surely her medical scare had also provided him with a glimpse of his own mortality.

All of those factors combined probably had him a little off balance and so now he was reaching for anything that might put him back on even ground.

Something like wielding a little parental power over his daughter.

But Alex had nipped that in the bud.

I could hear her from my spot in the kitchen, interrupting Cathy to tell her dad what she thought of him. And I knew that as mad as she was for herself, she was even more upset for me.

As she'd wrapped up her parting shot, I'd slipped into my coat and then grabbed hers from the back of the chair.

A walk would be good for everyone.

She could cool down. She could see that I wasn't overly upset.

And Cathy could speak with her father alone.

So we'd walked.

And just as I'd suspected, the bulk of her concern was for me.

I think that she was surprised by my lack of upset.

And I have to admit, I was a little bit impressed with myself.

Because I just didn't have it in me to lose any sleep over something that Johnny had said.

Alex loved me and was happy with me and that was all that mattered.

When we got back home, Johnny was gone and Cathy had gone to bed.

"Nothing's broken," Alex remarked as we walked through the quiet apartment. "I guess that's a good thing."

"Does Cathy like to throw things?" I asked in amusement.

"She's been known to sling a vase or two," she replied. "Or a soccer trophy."

"Now that sounds like a story that I need to hear."

"Hey, you know, I was thinking about this Jennings case," she said, shifting gears as I set the security alarm.

"What about it?"

"How did Paul even find out about Helen? It's not like she had an ad in the paper that claimed she assisted in custodial abductions."

"That's true. But does it matter? I mean, I believed her story. Didn't you?"

"Yeah," she said on a sigh. "I did. I guess we need to get back to that now that we've rescued our friends from jail and defused a family spat," she added with a grin.

"Not tonight we don't," I argued. I turned back to her and grabbed her by the hand. "Tonight is all about you."

"Me?" she whispered as we went down the hall to our bedroom. "You won the bet."

"I know. And you're my prize."

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of bacon.

It was much preferable to how I'd awakened yesterday.

The enticing smell, the lack of yelling, and the feel of Alex in my arms…I was a happy man.

"She's cooking breakfast," Alex mumbled against my chest.

"I can smell."

"When was the last time you checked the batteries in the smoke detectors?"

I chuckled lightly and tightened my grip on her.

"I think we're safe," I replied.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't smell smoke yet. Do you want me to go check on her?"

"No," she said, pushing herself onto her forearms. She kissed my chest and then moved up to my lips before sitting up in the bed. "No, I'm going."

"I don't mind," I assured her, although I wondered if maybe she wanted some alone time with Cathy.

After all, not only had their father accused me of cheating on Alex, but he'd also accused Cathy of being a participant as well.

That had to hurt.

And maybe I had a little bit of insight into that kind of hurt.

"Give me a few minutes," I told Alex. "Then I'll go take a shower and leave you two alone."

She held my gaze for a few seconds and then kissed me again.

"You just want to get to the bacon before she burns it," she said with a smirk. But then she flopped back onto the mattress in silent agreement for me to talk to Cathy first.

"I'm an easy read," I said with a shrug.

I got out of bed, hyper-aware of her eyes on me as I walked to the dresser and pulled out some clothes.

Last night she'd convinced me that Cathy wasn't going to pick the lock on our bedroom door so it was probably still safe for me to sleep in the buff.

"_What if there's an emergency in the middle of the night_?" I'd argued lightly. "_Do you really want me wasting time looking for my pants_?"

At which point she'd pulled me down on top of her and whispered into my ear.

"_I'll protect you_," she'd said.

She's something else, my Alex.

So I pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants and headed for the kitchen.

"It smells really good in here," I said.

"Oh, hi Bobby," Cathy replied, obviously startled by my approach. She gave me a small smile then turned her focus back to the skillet. "Yeah, I don't know why, but for some reason bacon and eggs sounded good. The coffee's ready if you want some."

"Sure. You want a cup?" I offered, noticing that she had yet to pour any for herself.

"That would be great."

We worked in silence for a moment, me filling the cups and her flipping the bacon.

"Thank you for defending me last night," I said at last. "I really appreciate that."

"Well, Dad was being an idiot," she said dismissively.

"Yes, he was," I agreed. "To think that his own daughter would do something like that."

She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at me in surprise.

"Did you think it wouldn't occur to me how insulting that was for _you_? That Alex wouldn't think about that?" I asked her.

"I didn't…I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "I haven't exactly shown good judgment lately."

"True," I agreed, and at her raised eyebrow, I flashed her a smile. "But you love your sister and you'd never betray her like that."

She held my gaze a moment longer and gave me a slow nod.

"Neither would you," she said.

"No. Alex will never have to worry about that with me," I assured her. "Did you tell Johnny how he'd made you feel?"

"No," she admitted.

And I could understand that. Sometimes it was tough to speak from the heart to a parent, especially one as hard-headed as Johnny.

But I did share with Cathy my epiphany about her dad. And I think that maybe it helped a little. Cathy had enough to worry about without adding to it unnecessarily.

"I don't think he considered how it would make you feel," I concluded. "I think he was just excited to think that he might have something on me."

"That makes sense," she said with a nod.

She turned off the burner and set the pan of bacon aside. Alex would be thrilled to find that she hadn't burned it.

"Besides," Cathy added. "I'd like to think that I have a little bit better taste."

Her unexpected comment had me laughing.

"Than to sleep with me?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," she said, a broad grin on her face.

"Did you forget already? I'm fucking Prince Charming," I teased as I pulled her into a hug.

She sighed and hugged me back.

"Yes you are, Bobby."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Cathy POV**

* * *

My chat with Bobby was enlightening on many levels.

The man was smart, much smarter than I'd thought.

He seemed to have a deep understanding of the human psyche and he had an innate ability to use that understanding even for situations that were close to him.

How many people could successfully grasp another person's motives for cruelty when said person is the object of said cruelty?

Not many.

But he'd stayed cool and had been able to understand my father's motivations.

Better than me, and better than Alex.

We'd both just gotten mad.

Although maybe that slight distinction between being direct family versus family-in-law had allowed him to do so.

I don't know.

But I do know that I felt a lot better after talking to him, and it even further strengthened my resolve about how I planned to get my life back on track.

I'd still been awake when they got home from their walk last night, but I'd stayed quiet to allow them their privacy.

Although I did struggle to contain my laughter when Alex mentioned that soccer trophy.

The fight that had resulted in me grabbing her coveted award and throwing it across the room had been trivial.

To this day, I honestly had no idea what had been so vital in my nine-year-old mind.

But when she'd seen that the little fake gold ball had broken off, she'd come at me like a raging bull, tackling me, taking me down to the ground.

The two of us had scrapped and yelled, pulled hair and bit, until our dad had come into the room.

And boy was he ever mad.

I'd gotten grounded for two weeks. And I'd had to glue the soccer ball back onto the trophy.

And Alex, she'd…what?

It hit me then that I had no idea.

My father had spouted off my punishment and then yanked her by the arm into the other room.

I'd continued listening to Alex and Bobby's hushed conversation as they went about locking up the place for the night.

They had a really nice security system. I hadn't asked why it was necessary in addition to the two deadbolts.

"Not tonight we don't," I'd heard Bobby say. And I'd only felt marginally bad about listening to them. I mean, did they really think that I was asleep already? Surely they had to suspect that I could hear. "Tonight is all about you."

Okay, so maybe they _didn't_ suspect that I was eavesdropping.

And it didn't take a genius to grasp his intent behind that statement.

Jeez, those two went at it like rabbits.

And my dad thought that Bobby was _cheating_?

Impossible.

It had to be literally, physically _impossible_ for the man to get it up any more often than he already was with Alex.

"Me?" I'd heard Alex respond in surprise. "You won the bet."

Bet? They made _sexual_ bets?

And as much as I was trying to make fun of them in my head, I just couldn't do it.

Instead, I felt wistful and slightly jealous.

They were happy and in love and just…having fun with each other.

Wasn't that what a marriage was supposed to be all about?

"I know," Bobby had replied. They were right outside of my room now, and I would swear I could feel the heat through the sheetrock. "And you're my prize."

I'd been unable to contain the pensive sigh.

Alex was lucky.

And I don't mean lucky in the sense that she didn't deserve it.

I knew that she did.

Lucky in the sense that she'd _found_ it.

Found _him_.

Obviously, I'd known him for years, but I hadn't realized the depth of their connection. I hadn't considered just exactly how well matched they were.

And sure, I'd thought that he was attractive, but I'd never really looked at him like that.

I'd always considered him to be Alex's, even when officially he wasn't.

And yet Dad had accused me of sleeping with him.

I'd been upset when I'd heard Dad yelling at Bobby, but at the time, I was more mad for Bobby.

He'd been trying to help me and that was the thanks he was getting?

That was why I'd had to jump in. But as the night wore on, I realized how much that statement had hurt me, too.

I know I'm screwed up. I know I've made some really, really stupid choices.

But to sleep with Bobby?

I would never do that.

Even when we were teenagers, Alex and I always respected each other's boyfriends or crushes or whatever. We didn't go after the other's guy. Not then, and certainly not now.

And it really hurt to think that my dad thought so little of me.

But Bobby's explanation this morning had helped.

It had helped a lot.

He was such a nice guy. He was willing to forgive and forget, even with the way I'd been treating him. And he'd been compassionate enough to recognize that the comment had hurt me, maybe even more than it had hurt him.

Like I said. Alex is really lucky.

After our conversation, Bobby went off to take a shower, and Alex came into the room.

"What, are you guys tag-teaming me?" I asked her, but I was only teasing.

"Maybe," she said with a shrug. She reached into the pan and pulled out a piece of bacon. "Do we need to?"

"No," I said. "Bobby did fine by himself. Thanks, though."

"No problem."

"Hey," I said suddenly. And I don't know why the question wanted to come out, but it did. "Remember that time I threw your soccer trophy and broke off the ball?"

"Yeah," she said. "What made you think of that?"

"I don't know," I replied vaguely. "I guess because we've been fighting so much lately. But I was wondering. What was your punishment?"

"Mine?"

"Yeah. I was grounded for two weeks and had to fix your trophy. But…I can't remember what yours was."

"I…um…he put me over his knee."

"He spanked you?"

My father had never once spanked me. Ever.

"Uh huh," she said with a nod as though it hadn't been that big of a deal. "And I was grounded for two weeks, too. And then he told me that the next time I wanted to pick a fight with someone, I should go after Kevin or Sean."

"But you didn't pick that fight. I did."

"He didn't know that," she said as though that fact should've been obvious. "He came in the room and I was on top of you on the floor."

"You didn't tell him?"

"Why would I?" she asked. "Oh, hey, Sean's coming over for dinner tomorrow night, okay? You're not working, are you?"

"I'm only doing eight tomorrow," I said, still slightly baffled by our trip down memory lane. "I talked to my boss yesterday about shortening my shifts so that I could spend some time with Nate in the afternoons, so I'll be off at three-thirty."

"Okay," she said with a smile. "Good."

The morning was a pleasant one.

After breakfast, I cleaned the kitchen while Alex and Bobby spent some time making phone calls. Something about an encrypted data stick and a guy named C-Dog.

Just as I finished getting everything squared away, the home phone rang.

"I'll get it," I called out. It was Steve.

"Is Alex busy?" he asked me. "Because I thought that maybe you and I could talk. You know…alone. Maybe she'd take Nate for a couple of hours."

"I'd like that," I told him. And I would. I'd been missing him a lot over the past couple of days.

Living with Alex and Bobby and their semblance of normalcy and love had really made me miss my old life.

Or not exactly that, but maybe the potential of what my life with him _could_ be.

And I knew that I'd screwed things up with Steve, but if we could maybe at least be on speaking terms then we could work something out with Nate.

So that was how, three hours later, I found myself back in my own kitchen.

It felt like I'd been gone for years and yet at the same time, it seemed like nothing had changed.

Nate had hugged me, tentatively but a hug nonetheless. I talked with him for a few minutes and he took me to his room to show me that he had rearranged his furniture.

And then he'd left with Alex and Bobby. The three of them were headed to a movie, and said that they'd be back in a few hours.

"Thank you," I said nervously once we were alone. "For letting me see him. And for wanting to talk."

"I never _didn't_ want to talk," he said gently.

It was his way of reminding me that I was the one who'd put us here.

And that was okay.

I'd take the heat for it.

After all, I was the one who'd walked away.

"Except I guess, when you were here," he added remorsefully.

"What?" I asked carefully. I was sitting down in a kitchen chair and he walked over to kneel in front of me.

"I know that I pushed you away," he said. "We're both responsible for what's happened. Not just you. I'm not going to make you take the blame alone."

He reached for my hand where it rested against my thigh and lightly covered it with his own.

"I didn't tell you how I felt, or show you the love that you deserved. I'm sorry for that."

Tears burned my eyes at his confession, his acceptance of everything I'd been trying to tell him in the months before I left.

"It's…I'm sorry…I…"

My voice broke and I couldn't finish my thought as I struggled to bring my mind up to speed with where we were.

Was it possible that he still loved me?

After everything I'd done to hurt him?

"I shouldn't have just walked away," I said at last.

And I'm not sure, but maybe that's what he was hoping I'd say, because as I said the words, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

And at the risk of sounding too cliché, it felt like home.

I mean, he'd been my husband for more than thirteen years.

We'd been through so much together and yeah, I'd been the one to throw it away, but I was starting to believe that I'd been wrong.

But I wasn't sure, because it had been so hard to finally take that step and walk away from him, and was I now just lonely and seeking comfort from a familiar face or did I truly want him back?

How could I know?

How could possibly I know the difference?

Especially once he started kissing me and telling me how much he loved me and missed me and then the next thing I knew, I was saying the same words back to him and then suddenly we were both naked on the kitchen floor.

The intensity of our love-making was something I hadn't experienced with Steve since…I don't know when.

And it wasn't the same as with Travis.

It was better, so much better, because there was real emotion involved, and Steve knew me, knew my body.

In fact, I didn't even want thoughts of Travis in my head at all because this was just too good, and I _did_ love Steve and we _had_ shared something special, and maybe at some point we could be together again.

Not like before.

Better than before.

But I couldn't jump into anything.

I mean, anything more than sex.

Because no matter how good he was making me feel, that didn't change the fact that something had been missing from our daily lives.

And maybe just the potential for losing it completely had opened our eyes to our mistakes.

Or maybe each of us would fix our respective problems and then as time went on, we'd slip back into the same old habits that had gotten us to this point in the first place.

I couldn't take that chance. I had to slow things down and be sure.

"Steve," I said softly. We were still on the floor, each of us finally spent, and he was holding me in his arms. One hand trailed lightly over my bruised ribs.

"He hurt you, didn't he?"

"Yes," I replied simply.

"Is that why you left him?"

"Yes."

"And today, this was…what? A brief trip down memory lane?"

I sighed and turned in his arms so that I could look him in the eye.

"This wasn't what I planned," I told him. "Was it what you were thinking about when you asked me over here?"

"No," he admitted. "I just…I couldn't help myself. I've really missed you, and…I don't know. For a minute there, it felt like old times."

"Yes it did," I agreed.

"But if getting back together is something that you're considering, then we need to take it slow. Very slow."

I tried not to be offended by his words, especially considering I'd just been thinking the same thing.

But maybe I'd hoped for him to be passionate and reckless about a reconciliation.

Although…we _were _naked in the kitchen in the middle of the afternoon.

This had to be about the most passionate and reckless thing that Steve had ever done.

It was a start.

"Slow," I said with a nod.

And then I kissed him again.

And again.

I ran my hand down his back and over his butt, clenching the firm muscle and pulling him closer to me.

"Or maybe we'll go fast right now," he remarked suggestively. "And slow later."

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Lupo POV**

* * *

Sunday morning, I met Bernard at the office.

I didn't have to ask him how his night went.

It was written all over his face.

And aside from that, he apparently wasn't going to be shy about talking about it.

"You missed an opportunity last night," he told me as I shed my coat and hung it on the back of my chair.

"An opportunity to screw up?" I asked him with a smile.

"Nah, Lupes, I mean an _opportunity_. That girl was _really_ into guys who carry guns."

"I don't need to know details. And I've already got a girl, remember?"

Not only that, but I still had a vivid memory of the last girl I'd heard about who was into guys who carried guns.

Rhonda Hagen, or whatever her name was.

She'd been certifiable.

No, I was perfectly happy with _my_ girl.

He shrugged and looked at me dubiously, as though I might actually possibly consider _not_ being with Connie.

Had he lost his mind?

Maybe getting laid _hadn't_ been such a good thing for him. I mean, he was in a great mood, but still…he seemed to have lost the ability to think rationally.

"I know you and Connie are a thing," he replied. "But are you sure? I mean, you're really okay with the idea that as long as you're with her, you're never going to be with anyone else?"

I chuckled and shook my head. I couldn't blame him for not getting it. Most guys couldn't understand it unless they were _in_ it.

"I'm glad it worked out for you," I told him firmly.

"Yeah, I guess I owe you."

"I think we're fine," I assured him.

"So what'd you do last night? You know you didn't have to bounce when you did."

"I went home," I admitted.

"By yourself?"

"Uh huh."

"And did what? Just sit around and wait for Connie to get home?"

"Well, I didn't just stare at the door all night," I replied.

Bernard just stared at me in confusion for a long minute and then shook his head.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day," he said.

"What?"

"You. You're totally whipped."

"What? I am not!"

"Yeah," he said as he started to chuckle. "You are."

"He is what?"

I turned to find that Captain Ross had joined our discussion. And that was fine with me, because he'd back me up.

"Nothing," Bernard said.

"I handed off a sure thing to Bernard last night," I explained.

"And that makes you…smart?" Ross asked me.

"Exactly," I replied.

"Well, Detective," Ross said, turning to Bernard. "Can you tell me where we are on the John Jay vic, or do we need to dig a little deeper into some locker room talk?"

I ducked my head and bit back a chuckle.

"No, I'm good, Cap," Bernard said. "Unless you need some pointers or something."

"If I do, I'll be sure to ask your partner," Ross retorted. "Since he was the one who reeled in the sure thing."

"Detective Harker still hasn't returned my calls," I spoke up, rescuing Bernard from a verbal sparring match with Ross. It wasn't that I didn't think Bernard could hold his own, but still…Ross was our boss.

"What are we trying to get from him?"

"Just some insight into the victim," I said. "Harker took the report when Brubaker had a stalker. He might have suggested to him a place to live, or maybe he knows some of Brubaker's friends who may have put him up…I don't know."

"I'll call his captain at OCCB and arrange a sit-down," Ross offered. "What else?"

Bernard and I filled him in on what had happened yesterday with the Logans.

"Mike called this morning," I said when we finished. "Carolyn lifted a data stick from the apartment, but it's encrypted. They're going to bring it by this morning."

"You think our guys can get into it?" Ross asked.

"No, but I know who can."

"So we still don't know for sure if they stumbled into your vic's apartment?"

"No, but if it _is_ our vic," Bernard said, shaking his head slowly. "What are the odds that Hemmings lived across the hall from a dead guy? It's pretty bizarre."

"Yes it is," Ross agreed. "So figure it out. I'll let you know what time to expect Harker."

He headed back for his office as an officer brought Bernard and me a stack of papers.

"What's this?" Bernard asked her.

"NCIC report. Didn't you request it?"

"Yeah," I said as I looked at the nearly three-inch thick stack. "We were just hoping that the results would be a little…less."

She glanced at the search parameters and gave me a shrug.

"You asked for dead guys recovered in the entire country over the course of the past two weeks who either have the initials B.B. or the last name Fowler. _And_ you asked for the sheets on any felon with the known alias of Pebo or C-Dog. What did you think? One name?"

"A guy can dream, can't he?" I replied with a smile.

To my surprise, she smiled back.

Warmly.

Then she faced me fully and nudged a hip up on the edge of my desk.

"Sure he can," she said. "What exactly is it that you dream about, Detective Lupo?"

Her openly flirtatious remark threw me into a momentary stunned silence which was mercifully ended by the arrival of Mike and Carolyn.

"We brought the stick," Carolyn said as she walked over next to me and eyeballed the woman sitting on my desk. "You're going to call your guy?"

"Yeah," I agreed. I looked pointedly at the officer who had yet to move. What was she waiting for? "Um…thanks for bringing us the reports," I told her.

"Sure," she said as she reluctantly got up from my desk. Then she leaned close to me and added quietly, "Any time you want to get together and talk about dreams, you give me a call."

"Lupes, you're on fire," Bernard said after she'd left the room.

"Something about an attached guy," Mike remarked with a shake of his head. "It brings women out of the woodwork."

"Oh yeah?" Carolyn teased. "How many women do you have hitting on you?"

"Lupo!"

It was Ross.

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Harker will be here in twenty minutes."

People can say what they will about Captain Ross, but he was in the office on a Sunday and he'd just gotten a fellow captain to order one of his detectives to our house as a courtesy.

Ross was hard-working and a good captain.

I'd thought that after working under Van Buren that I'd be disappointed with anyone else, but I wasn't.

"Thank you, Sir," I said.

"Let me know if he gives you any trouble."

"Who's this Harker guy?" Carolyn asked. "Is he the one Ross suspected of being a leak?"

"Uh huh," Bernard replied thoughtfully.

"But not enough so to give him any kind of official reprimand," Mike pointed out.

"He was just running to the big man with everything," Bernard explained. "And he practically carries the book in his pocket."

"I wonder what he thinks about being summoned here," Carolyn mused.

"Why don't you two stick around and watch?" I suggested.

"You're going to put him in an interrogation room?" Mike asked. "Oh, he's going to love that."

"I've got it covered," I replied.

Thirty-five minutes later, Harker arrived on the eleventh floor. Mike and Carolyn were waiting in an observation room and I hung back behind Bernard, waiting for him to make the introductions since I'd never actually met him.

"Harker," Bernard said, shaking his hand. "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah," Harker replied stiffly. "We're long lost pals. What do you want?"

"This is my partner, Detective Lupo," Bernard introduced. Harker studiously ignored me, so I let Bernard keep talking. "We picked up a case last week and we've been trying to find more information on our victim so that we could piece together a motive, but so far we've been unsuccessful."

"Really? How disappointing for Major Case detectives," he said snidely. "I wonder how long Captain Ross will keep you two around."

"I don't know," I said quietly as though I was truly concerned. I made a surreptitious glance towards Ross' office and then looked back at Harker. "Look, we asked you to come here to talk to us because our victim once came to you with a stalker issue. We thought that maybe you could help us. Because we've just been spinning our wheels and if we don't come up with some kind of motive or suspect, Ross is gonna come down hard on us."

Harker took a moment to consider my plea. I'd figured that the only way to endear myself to him was to use the common ground of Ross-loathing.

"Okay," he said at last. "Let me look at what you've got."

"We've got it spread out in a room down the hall," I told him.

"An interrogation room?"

"Hey, we're just trying to work out of his line of sight," I mumbled with a tilt of my head towards Ross. "And the conference rooms are too visible."

It worked. He followed us into the interrogation room where we had a few select items spread out on the table.

And honestly, I didn't suspect the man of any wrongdoing. I just didn't want him to clam up and withhold information because of some kind of grudge against the department.

If he'd known Brubaker, then we needed to know what he knew. And a lot of times in stalking cases, detectives had multiple instances of contact with the victim and even sometimes offered advice.

"Barry Brubaker?" Harker asked in surprise as he picked up the morgue photo.

"So you do remember him," Bernard said.

"Sure. He was a real piece of work. He was positive that a woman was stalking him."

"You didn't think so?"

"Well, I didn't at first. But then he claimed that she killed his cat."

"Claimed. You think he made that up?"

"I have no idea. But I helped him get his TRO."

"What else did you do for him?"

"What do you mean?"

"The man was a ghost," I said. "We can't find where he lived, or where he worked. Not after that TRO anyway."

"Oh, well I know where he lived. At least up until I moved to New York two months ago."

"You do? Where?"

"I introduced him to the guy who lived across the hall from me. Lou does a lot of work with the Peace Corps and spends the majority of his time somewhere other than at home. It was a good fit. Barry could stay off the lease and that way the apartment wasn't empty while Lou was gone. And Barry like living across the hall from a cop."

"Which was where?" I asked again.

"Chevy Chase. An apartment building on Willow Lane."

"4402? Apartment 330?" I asked in surprise.

"Yeah. So you _did_ find it then."

"Lou. That's Lawrence Fowler?" Bernard questioned.

"Uh huh."

My mind raced to make sense of what he was telling us. I mean, it was all fine except for one little fact.

Hemmings had given Harker's address for her bank account. And if Harker knew Hemmings, then not only was he connected to Brubaker, but to Hemmings and the libelous article as well.

And did that mean that these cases _did _overlap?

Bernard and I looked at each other and then back at Harker. The mood in the room changed as we switched from being colleagues to being interrogators.

"How do you know A.J. Hemmings?" Bernard asked him.

"Who?"

"Anna. Janelle. Whatever she's calling herself these days."

"I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Is Lou out of the country right now?" I asked, switching topics to throw him off balance.

"I don't know. I haven't spoken with him in two weeks."

"So you've talked to him since you moved up here."

"Yeah. He's a friend."

"Barry was still living with him?"

"Yeah."

"You said that you knew where Barry lived up until two months ago when you moved here. But you actually knew up until two weeks ago, right?"

"Hey, what's going on here guys?"

"What's going on?" Bernard asked him, bracing his hands on the table and giving him a hard stare. "What's going on is that you seem to be linked to a murder victim and a woman who is trying to ruin Captain Ross."

"And you certainly haven't tried to hide how you feel about him, have you?" I added.

"What woman? I don't know what you're talking about."

"But you do know about the murder."

"You just told me!"

"But you're not denying that you're connected."

"I live across the hall. That's my connection. Period."

"You _live_ across the hall. So you didn't move away two months ago?"

Harker sighed and ran his hand over his face and then got up from the table.

"Is this an interrogation? Because I think maybe I need my PBA rep."

"Do you?"

"If you're going to try to hang me for something that I didn't do, then yeah. I do."

"We're not trying to hang you for anything," Bernard said, easing up a little. "We just need information. When was the last time you spoke with Barry?"

"I don't know. It's been awhile."

"Since you moved here?"

"No. Before then."

"Was he still having trouble with his stalker?"

"Not that I know of."

"Had he received any threats?"

"Again, not that I know of. I helped the guy find a place to live. We weren't friends."

"Did you help him get a job, too? Something that paid off the books?"

"I don't know what he did for a living."

"Did you know that Lou's place was broken into yesterday?"

"What? No!"

We both paused a beat while we waited to see if he would ask. He didn't.

"Don't you want to know if Lou's okay?"

"I don't see his picture here," he said, gesturing towards the table. "So I'm guessing that he's okay."

"He wasn't home," I told him. "But they were looking for something. Do you know what that might have been? Do you know what Barry was into?"

"I told you. I have no idea what Barry was into. Why don't you ask the two guys who were doing the looking?"

"Because they're dead," Bernard told him.

I watched his face carefully while Bernard delivered that information, but if he was bothered at all by the news, he hid it well.

And then I started to feel a little bad. We were raking him over the coals just because his neighbor had been killed.

Well, that and because a woman we were searching for had used his address.

Although, was _that_ part of Hemmings game? I mean, she was trying to take down cops. Had she simply used Harker's address in an effort to make him look bad?

Was she being non-discriminatory in her attempts to paint the department in a bad light?

"Who is living in your apartment now?"

"What?" he asked in confusion as I switched gears again. "I live alone."

"In Chevy Chase," I clarified. "You still have that place, right?"

"Yeah. I…I wasn't sure if I'd like it in New York. I decided to keep the place down there until my lease was up."

"So you're paying two rents?"

"Yeah," he said with a shrug.

"On a detective's salary. That's pretty impressive."

"I've made some good investments. What, is it against the law to be doing well financially?"

"So no one is living at your place in Chevy Chase."

"No."

My phone buzzed, so I pulled it off my belt and looked at it.

A text from Logan. I was glad that he'd refrained from knocking on the glass or Harker would've really gone ballistic.

_**Bobby said that there were women's clothes in one of the closets**_.

"Have you ever lived with a woman?" I asked Harker as I put my phone away.

"I can't imagine how that's relevant."

"It's a pretty simple question."

"It is. And it's none of your damn business. Look, I answered your questions about Barry, and I've told you everything I know," he said as he got up from the table. "I think we're done here."

"Hey, no hard feelings," Bernard said, shaking his hand. "We're just trying to sort out this mess we've stumbled into. We appreciate your help."

"Sure," he replied resentfully. "Good luck."

He left the room and a minute later, Mike and Carolyn joined us.

"What do you think?" I asked them.

"He knew about the break-in," Carolyn said immediately.

"You got that from watching his face?" Bernard asked her.

But Mike was nodding, and I did a quick mental replay of the conversation to see what I'd missed.

And there it was.

"We didn't tell him that it was two guys," I stated.

"What?" Bernard asked.

"When you told Harker that Lou's place was broken into," Carolyn said. "You didn't say how many, and you didn't distinguish whether it was men or women. And the fact that Brubaker had a stalker means that the supposition should've been that the burglar was a woman."

"But he didn't," Mike concluded. "He told you to ask the two guys. He knows something. A hell of a lot more than he's saying."

"And if he knows about that, and Hemmings is staying in his place, then our two cases are definitely tied together."

"Or he could've just made an assumption," Bernard argued. "Why would he suddenly want Brubaker dead? He'd been living across from him for years."

"Maybe he was killed because he knew what Hemmings and Harker were up to," Carolyn suggested.

"Which is what?" I asked. "We haven't heard from her in a week. And we haven't been able to find any motive for her actions, other than to make the NYPD look bad. Maybe she's pulling Harker into this, too."

"But Harker _would_ have a motive," Mike said. "He'd want payback on Ross."

"For washing him out of MCS?" Bernard asked. "Come on. That kind of thing happens all of the time."

"He has a point," I said, agreeing with Bernard. "I've got a hard time picturing a detective going after a former captain just because he transferred him. I mean, Harker's working in OCCB. It's not like Ross fired him."

"We need to find out what's on that data stick," Carolyn said.

"And we need bring Ross up to speed. The next time we talk to Harker, it needs to be an official interrogation with his PBA rep present."

"So…" Mike began. "Are we off to see your black ops shit guy?"

"Let's go."

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**Alex POV**

* * *

Monday morning, Cathy was gone by the time Bobby and I got up.

I knew that she had a shift beginning at seven, so she must have cleared out in time to catch the subway rather than waiting around to ask us for a ride.

When we'd gotten back to Steve's place yesterday with Nate, I could tell right away that the mood between her and Steve had changed.

The anger wasn't palpable and there were plenty of shared looks.

"I think they had sex," I confided to Bobby once we were home and in our bedroom.

"Uh huh," he agreed.

I got the feeling that he was only half listening to me because the rest of him was focused on watching me undress. I loved that the sight of me naked hadn't gotten old for him.

I intentionally slowed my movements to draw out the tease, but I kept talking.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Well, he _is_ her husband."

"Her soon-to-be ex-husband."

"Maybe. Or maybe they'll work it out. There's obviously still some kind of spark between them."

"How can she go from Travis on Thursday to Steve on Sunday?"

"I don't think her fling with Travis had anything to do with him," he responded. And even though his words made sense, his eyes were watching my fingers as they moved to undo the buttons on my blouse. "I think her affair was a rebellion. Travis was the antithesis of Steve."

"So you think that she still loves him?"

"I think they both still love each other," he amended. "The break-up wouldn't hurt so much if there wasn't love involved."

I dropped the blouse so that I now stood in front of him in only my underwear.

"They were supposed to be talking today," I commented. "I don't think much talking got done."

"Maybe talking is overrated," he said as he reached out his hand. He skimmed his fingertips across my skin, causing me to shudder in anticipation.

"I don't know," I countered. "There's something to be said for a man who knows just the right words to say."

He slipped both hands into the waistband of my underwear and slowly pulled them down my legs.

"Sei multa bella," he said softly.

I'd had no doubt that he'd catch my meaning, and as usual, he didn't disappoint me. The foreign words rumbling from his mouth in a hushed tone…sometimes I felt like that sound alone could take me over the edge.

I let out a sigh and pushed all thoughts of Cathy and her sex life out of my head.

He continued his assault on me, his lips against my skin in an alternating mix of kisses and whispered words.

"Amore mio… la tua pelle e' come seta…"

So needless to say, we didn't talk any more about Cathy.

But this morning when we got up and she was gone, I brought her up again.

"Do you really think it was a step in the right direction?"

"For her to sleep with Steve?" he clarified. "Yes. It shows that he's willing to forgive her, and it shows that she realizes what she walked away from."

"She did seem pretty happy last night," I agreed.

"Uh huh. As long as they don't avoid talking about their issues, then I think they have a chance."

My thoughts exactly.

And what a relief it was to see a dim light off in the distance at the end of this dark tunnel of my sister's life.

We got ourselves ready for work and then headed into the office.

I was curious to hear what Mike and Carolyn had learned yesterday because I knew they'd gone with Lupo to find out what was on the data stick.

"It's written in code," Mike stated in annoyance when we asked.

"It was encrypted_ and_ in code?" Bobby asked him.

"I'm thinking that maybe Brubaker had a bit of a paranoia hang up," Carolyn said.

"Yeah, Brubaker did it up right. Lupo's guy was pretty excited about it."

"Is he still working on it?" I asked.

"Uh huh. He's supposed to call Lupo when he figures it out."

"We need to get that guy on our payroll," Bobby commented.

"Why? He's willing to work for free," Mike said.

"Okay, so what else do we know?"

"Harker may be involved," Carolyn said.

"Another dirty cop?" I asked in annoyance. What was wrong with people these days?

"Well, the house-cleaning started at the top," Bobby reminded me. "So it's perfectly normal to think that we overlooked a few of them."

"Yeah, but this guy wasn't even here when that whole Moran thing went down," I argued.

"True," Bobby agreed. "I wonder who signed his transfer acceptance."

"You mean was it before or after Moran?" Mike asked.

"It had to be after. We didn't put in our notice until after Moran was in prison," I said.

"What do we know about him?" Bobby asked. "I mean, you said that he _may_ be involved."

"He denied knowing Hemmings," Mike said. "But she's using his address. And you guys found women's clothing in the closet, so you tell me."

"Okay, so let's say he does know Hemmings. Still, it's a big step to go from helping a reporter get revenge on Ross to conspiring to murder your neighbor," I remarked. "What would be his motive?"

"Brubaker overheard what they were planning to do," Bobby said. "And he made notes on the data stick."

It made sense. But it just seemed so…innocuous. Carolyn read my mind.

"No, I think Alex is right. It's one thing to want to publicly humiliate someone, or to try to put their job in jeopardy, but murder? Just to keep it from being exposed?"

"Right. And not only that, but Harker helped Brubaker out of his stalking situation. Surely he felt a sense of gratitude about that. Wouldn't Harker have been able to talk him out of going public with whatever he knew?"

"We need to get back into that apartment," Mike said. "Now that we know more about what we're looking for."

"There's no way that the CCPD is going to let you anywhere near that place."

"No, but I bet we can get into Harker's place," Carolyn said thoughtfully.

"How?"

"Hemmings wrote down that address as hers," she said. "In conjunction with the false use of a social security number. That's a federal crime."

"And we happen to know an FBI agent at the Hoover Building," Mike finished with a grin.

"See?" I said. "It does pay to play nice."

"Sometimes," he retorted. "But if I find out that Harker's in on this, the gloves come off."

"We'll save that for later. You should call Lupo and let him know what you guys are going to do."

"Right," Carolyn agreed. "They have the statement of a member of the NYPD that the other apartment was the home address of their murder victim. That'll get them into Brubaker's place while we look through Harker's."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

Carolyn and I made the necessary arrangements and then we left for 1PP.

Lupo and Bernard were going to ride down there with us.

I think they wanted to make sure that we weren't going to bust through the crime scene tape on Brubaker's place and end up back in jail again.

I wasn't ruling it out.

Or at least, I wouldn't have if we didn't have them with us.

But they'd called ahead and gotten permission, and we'd made arrangements with Agent Burke to meet us at Harker's place.

"Alex and Bobby looked through there on Saturday, didn't they?" Bernard asked as I drove down I-95.

"Yeah, but we're hoping that you guys spooked him yesterday. If he knows you're onto him, he may have had her clear out of there."

"So you're driving four hours just to see if there are still women's clothes hanging in the closet?"

"Sure," I said with a smile. "That, and if none of the locals are sitting on Brubaker's place, then we're going in there with you."

There were no black and whites in the parking lot when we got to the apartment building, and once we arrived on the right floor, we found that the end of the hallway was a ghost town.

Brubaker's place had a small rectangular sticker across the doorway, showing that the crime scene had been sealed.

Other than that, no one was in sight.

"We'll come in with you while we're waiting for Agent Burke," Carolyn said.

Lupo raised an eyebrow at her, and she added, "We won't touch anything."

"Mike Logan?"

I turned to look down the hall and found a guy in a suit approaching me. He had _fed_ written all over him, but he looked nice enough.

"Yeah, Agent Burke?" I replied, extending my hand.

"Sorry you had to wait for me, but I've got your warrant. Let's go."

So Lupo slid his pocketknife through the seal on 330 while Burke banged loudly on 329.

"Anna Hemmings, FBI! We have a warrant to enter the premises."

We were met with silence, so Burke pulled his weapon and kicked open the door.

I liked his enthusiasm.

The three of us conducted a quick sweep of the apartment to confirm that it was empty, and then we slowed down and began doing a thorough search.

I finished up in what was presumably Harker's room and found Carolyn in the second bedroom.

"The clothes are gone," Carolyn said to me with a knowing smile.

"So he called her and told her to get out. I bet he was pretty mad that we tracked her down here."

"Yeah, but there's no proof. We have no way of showing that she was ever here because Alex and Bobby weren't supposed to have been in here."

"I wonder how well she wiped the place down," I speculated as I took note of the various print-worthy features around the room.

Brass light switch cover. Ceramic lamp.

"Did you bring your kit?" she asked me.

"Or course," I replied as I pulled out my supplies.

We'd decided that it would be a good idea to start carrying a fingerprinting kit with us.

I wasn't as good as some of the techs were and it wouldn't necessarily always hold up in court, but there were certainly times when it would help us in our investigations.

But maybe Hemmings was better than we'd expected.

The light switch was clean, as was the lamp.

"Hey Mike," Carolyn said as she leaned over the bed to get a closer look at something.

"Whatcha got?"

"Print the headboard."

"What, you think that just because I keep _you _grabbing for the headboard that every woman has that luxury?" I teased, but I crossed the room and joined her next to the bed.

Because she was right.

It was an ornate brass headboard.

The part near the center would offer someone a good hand-hold.

I used the brush to dust on the black powder.

"Bingo," I muttered. I managed to pull off two nice prints off the backside, in the precise spot where her thumbs would be if she'd reached blindly over her head in search of leverage.

"I wonder if Bernard has such a nice non-porous headboard," Carolyn said with a smile when I held up my prize.

"Let's go ask him."

If we could pull prints from his and match it up to these, then we'd be able to confirm without a doubt that it was Hemmings. Otherwise, we were simply still guessing because we had nothing to compare it to.

We left Agent Burke alone for a minute as we slipped across the hall and into Brubaker's apartment.

For some reason, they were both standing there watching for us.

"What's up, guys?"

"Two things," Bernard said. "My headboard is mirrored, so there's no place to grab a hold of. And even if there was, I already told you that I didn't sleep with Hemmings."

I looked at Carolyn in surprise before turning back to Bernard.

"You could hear us?"

"Like you were in the room with us," Lupo said. "Brubaker's room."

"Must be some kind of weird acoustics in the duct work," I muttered.

"That's it then," Carolyn said excitedly. "He was listening to them, and he heard whatever they were planning out, which must have been more than just writing an article because that wouldn't have been worth killing him for."

"I think you're exactly right," Lupo said. "Harker is in this. We need to call Ross so that he can pick him up."

TBC...


	34. Chapter 34

**Cathy POV**

* * *

I went to work on Monday with renewed vigor.

It was going to be okay.

I was going to be able to fix my life.

Steve still loved me _and_ he recognized that he was partly to blame for our problems.

Hell, that was two-thirds of the battle.

Because I realized now that I loved Steve, too.

I wanted to be with him.

And I'd wanted to all along. It was just that I wanted him to _show_ me that the feeling was mutual.

I wanted to _hear_ that he wanted me, too.

And maybe that sounded…juvenile, or needy, or…whatever, but I didn't think it was too much to ask to have my husband show me and tell me that I was important to him.

And after what he'd said yesterday…that he knew that he was partly at fault for me leaving…well, it gave me hope.

And not only that, but Nate had been receptive, too.

Maybe I hadn't ruined everything.

Four days ago, I'd thought that my life was over, figuratively speaking.

And now…now it might actually turn out okay.

Better than okay.

I checked the clock and realized that it was time for my break, so I stepped outside.

Not to smoke a cigarette.

Just to get some air.

Because that was going to be part of my road to recovery. No more smoking. It wasn't good to do that around Nate anyway.

I'd bought a cell phone yesterday to replace the one that had been left behind with Travis, so I got it out of my pocket thinking that maybe I'd call Steve.

Just to say hi.

And maybe to ask him out on a date.

Not to have sex again. Although, I certainly wouldn't be opposed, but still…we did need to spend a little more time talking.

I crossed the sidewalk and headed for the section of benches off to the right.

But I pulled up short when I heard my name.

"Cathy!"

My good mood left me as I turned around to face Travis.

I hadn't realized that he was out on bail, and I certainly hadn't expected him to show up at my work.

"What, no hello for your boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend," I clarified firmly.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?"

"What did you expect? Besides, I heard that you had company when they came to arrest you."

I watched his face as it clouded over with anger, but then he plastered on a smile.

"Sit in my car with me for a minute."

"I don't think so."

"I'm not asking," he said menacingly.

"Or what? You're going to beat me up right here in the hospital parking lot?"

"I know other ways to hurt you," he warned. "You've got a son…a sister…"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Get your ass in the car and I won't," he bargained. "Besides, I just want to talk."

Against my better judgment, I followed him to his car and climbed into the passenger seat.

I have to admit it. I was a little bit afraid of him. I didn't want him to know that though.

_Be like Alex_, I told myself. She wasn't afraid of anyone.

"So…what?" I asked him with attitude.

"Well, for starters," he began carefully. "You're going to adjust your tone of voice when you talk to me."

As he said the words, he leaned across the seat and put his hand on my throat.

Hard.

I leaned back in an effort to alleviate some of the pressure, but he didn't let up.

"And I don't know who you've been talking to," he continued. "Probably that bitch sister of yours…but you better listen to me, and you listen good. You don't get to leave until _I_ say it's time for you to go. And this whole mess with the assault charges? You're going to call the DA and get them dropped. Am I making myself clear?"

I grabbed onto his forearm with both of my hands, but I wasn't strong enough to pull him off of me. I wasn't able to do anything but nod in agreement.

"And you're going to give a statement to the cops that the drugs they found at my place were yours. I don't need the hassle of a petty-ass drug charge. I wouldn't have needed that shit if you were any good in the sack anyway, so you're going to take responsibility. Got it?"

Again, I nodded.

"And if you fuck me on this, it'll be the last thing you do."

Then he had the gall to kiss me. I could barely breathe from the tightness with which he held my throat, and yet he leaned over and kissed me.

"Oh come on, baby. You can do better than that," he said when I didn't return the kiss.

He grabbed me by the wrist and tugged on it until I let go of his forearm and then he jammed my hand onto his crotch. At some point, he'd managed to pull down his zipper, so he shoved my hand through the opening.

Tears burned in my eyes from the humiliation of being forced to touch him, and I suddenly wanted to throw up.

And I finally _got_ what Alex had been trying to tell me.

"See what you do to me?" he asked me as he leaned in to kiss me again. "I didn't mean to hit you, baby. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. It's your fault that I got so crazy. You understand that, don't you? It's only because I love you so much."

He continued to press his lips against mine. I was tempted to bite him, but I was afraid of how he would respond, especially since his hand was still squeezing my neck.

"After work, I want you to take care of this legal mess you got me into, and then come back to my place, okay? I'll let you make it up to me."

"Travis, I can't," I managed to say.

"You…you what?" he shouted. "You can't? That's not the right answer, Cathy."

"I'm going to spend the afternoon with my son."

I wasn't sure if that was true or not, but I thought that would be something that he could understand. It's not like I was blowing him off for a guy. It was my son.

And damn it, I did have a little bit of pride left in me. I wasn't going back to him just because he said so.

I wasn't going back to him at all.

"I don't think you're hearing me. Finish your shift. Take care of the cluster fuck that you caused, and then get your worthless _ass_ over to my place. And if you're lucky…if you're really fucking lucky…I just might forgive you."

He tightened his grip, both on my neck and on my hand that was pressed against his erection.

Then he closed his eyes as though he was actually enjoying the combination of being sexually aroused while causing me pain. And I guess he was.

I don't know how I'd missed every single sign that pointed to him being a sexual sadist, but damn…

"Okay," I agreed at last. "Okay. I…I've got to get back to work."

"Okay, baby," he said, his voice quiet again. He took his hand from my throat and ran it up along my cheek before kissing me one last time.

"I'll see you tonight," he added. "And I _will_ see you. Because I'm serious, Cathy. If you fuck me on this…"

He trailed off as though he was trying to think of a good enough threat. But it didn't matter to me what he said because I wasn't going to his place and I wasn't dropping any charges.

In fact, I might call that ADA and ask her to add another instance of assault.

_And_ I'd tell her that he violated his restraining order.

"If you fuck me on this, I'll find your sister," he said at last. "I'll kill you, and maybe I'll kill her, too. But not before I get some enjoyment out of both of you."

He released my hand so I pulled it away from him quickly and then I turned to open the door.

"And don't you go running to your sister about this, either," he warned. "You keep your damn mouth shut. Next time I see a cop at my door, I'm going to shoot first and ask questions later."

**

* * *

**

Steve POV

It had been a wild hair to go see Cathy.

I knew that she was working and that she probably wouldn't have but a few minutes to see me, but still…it almost felt like we were dating again.

I just wanted to _see_ her.

Me and my partner had worked a scene that was about ten minutes away from the hospital, so when we finished, I couldn't pass it up.

"I'll meet you back at the lab," I told him. We'd each driven separately because we'd been called to the scene directly from our homes.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I assured him. "I just have a stop to make. I'll be thirty minutes behind you."

So I pulled into the hospital parking lot and found a spot. As I got out of the car, I saw her. She was getting out of another car and walking back towards the building.

"Cathy!"

She turned to look at me and at first she looked like she was about to cry, and then a look of panic crossed her face.

"Steve? I'm sorry! I can't talk right now. I'm really late. I'll call you when I get off, okay?"

And then she was gone.

She'd had red marks on her neck and her lips were swollen.

I quickly turned toward the car that she'd gotten out of. The driver had gotten out and was smiling at me.

"Oh, you're Steve," he said with an arrogant nod. "I'm Travis."

And as he said his name, he deliberately reached down and zipped up his pants.

A sick feeling filled me as I realized what I must have stumbled onto.

And she'd been with me yesterday…why? Just to keep me from taking Nate away? Oh my God, I was so stupid. She was playing me for a fool…

"Hot little piece, isn't she?" he remarked with a wink.

And suddenly my disgust at being used was overridden by my extreme hatred for this man who had hit my wife.

He turned to get back into his car, and I crossed the short distance between us and tackled him from behind, slamming him against his car door.

"You sorry son of a bitch," I yelled out as I started hitting him. I heard a woman shouting for security, but I couldn't stop myself. He connected with a few punches, but I barely felt them at all.

Now I knew what it meant to see red.

We scrapped and fought and rolled around the gravel parking lot.

"You need to stay the hell away from my wife!"

"She came to me," he retorted as he spit out a mouthful of blood. "You must not be giving her what she needs."

"What like coke?" I fired back. "You can't get it up without using some kind of stimulant?"

I took a hard blow to the jaw for that remark, but I got a perverse pleasure out of knowing that I'd wounded his pride.

"Break it up!" I heard as I felt two thick hands on my arms. I was pulled backwards, but not quickly enough because Travis kicked me in the gut while I was being held defenseless by the security guard.

"Settle down!" the guard shouted at him as he flung me around and into the side of the car. "Get up off the ground."

"This guy attacked me," Travis said.

"Oh my God…Steve?"

I looked up to see that a large majority of the ER staff had come out to witness the brawl.

Cathy was running towards me.

"Are you okay?"

And even though I'd just been fighting in defense of her honor, I didn't want to look at her.

Because she'd just been…what? Blowing that guy in his car?

This was crazy.

We were done. And if this was who she was going to be hanging around with, then she was done with Nate, too.

"Let me go," I said crossly to the security guard.

"It's not that simple, sir. This is assault."

"I'm not pressing charges against that little punk," Travis spoke up. "It's not like he hurt me."

The guard let me go, and I jerked away from Cathy's concerned touch.

"This is it, Cathy. I'm not doing this. You can't have it both ways, and it's obvious who you're choosing."

"No," she said as I hustled to the car. She was right on my heels. "Steve, wait. It's not what you think."

"It's not what I think?" I shouted, whirling around to face her. I forced myself to lower my voice since it seemed we still had an audience. "You were in the car with him. He got out and _zipped up his pants_. What the hell else am I supposed to think?"

She stared at me as tears ran down her face.

"It's…I…" she stammered.

"Exactly," I said. "We're done. And you can forget about seeing Nate any time soon. As long as you're hanging around with that low-life, then you're obviously an unfit mother."

"Steve, wait!" she begged as I got into the car.

I looked at her, and for just moment, I had a niggling of doubt. She looked so genuinely upset.

Was it just because she'd gotten caught?

Or because of something else?

Were those marks on her neck from the chafing of whiskers? I couldn't be sure.

My heart literally hurt with my need to hold her, to talk to her, to find out the truth of what happened, but then wouldn't that be just opening the door for her to lie to me?

Again?

Because why in the _world _had she gotten in the car with him?

I couldn't get past it. I just couldn't.

I'd come here thinking that we were halfway down the road to reconciliation, and instead I'd gotten a slap in the face.

This roller coaster ride was over.

"Go to hell, Cathy."

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby and I worked diligently all morning while Mike and Carolyn made the field trip to Maryland.

"What do you think is going on with Harker?" I asked Bobby when we took a break in the early afternoon.

He had been pacing through the office, presumably to help him think, and so we'd ended up in reversed positions. Me, sitting in his chair and him leaning against the edge of the desk.

"A woman can make a man do strange things," he said with a smile.

"You think that Hemmings got to him? Why?"

"I don't know," he admitting, shaking his head. "And no, I don't know that she got to him. I mean, what would be _her_ point? She doesn't have any priors either. Neither of them is into a life of crime."

"There's a first time for everything," I stated idly.

I had no idea what to think of the whole situation.

If Hemmings was working with Harker, then what was the purpose? Just to help him satisfy a grudge against Ross?

If so, then why bring us into it?

None of us knew Harker.

Or Hemmings.

If they'd wanted to widen the fallout, wouldn't they have gone after Lupo, who'd replaced Harker?

"I can't wait to find out what Lupo's guy pulls off that data stick," Bobby mused.

"What do you think it'll be?" I asked him with a grin. "Coordinates for the location of Jimmy Hoffa's body?"

"Maybe," he agreed.

His playful smile did its usual number on my libido and I forced myself to concentrate on the job.

"So where are we with Jennings? Did you make a decision?"

That was the million-dollar question.

He and I had been independently rehashing the evidence throughout the course of the day in order to each come to our own conclusion about whether or not to push forward.

"You first," he said with an encouraging nod.

"I think that…we let it go," I said.

And that wasn't an easy decision to make.

That meant that I was considering justification for a crime.

Paul had kidnapped Adam. That much was a fact.

But it had been for a good cause.

Did the end justify the means?

We never used to have the luxury to even entertain that thought, but now we did.

"I agree," he said. "I think that the one who gets hurt the most if we blow the whistle is Adam. Once he's an adult, he can make the decision about whether or not to bring charges against his mother. He's moved past it for a decade. It should be his choice to relive it or not."

We discussed it for a while longer and then took a call from Logan.

"We pulled some prints that we can hopefully match up to Hemmings," he told us. "And we found out something else interesting."

"What's that?"

"Brubaker could've easily eavesdropped."

He explained the deal with the acoustics and then he said that they were heading back to the city to print Bernard's apartment.

"So that's what's on the stick," Bobby said after we hung up. "Whatever Brubaker heard through the ducts."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But who listens to someone else's conversations and then writes it down in code on an encrypted data stick?"

"Someone who's been living in fear for three years," he reminded me.

We tossed about theories and supposition until we heard the main door to our office open.

"Where is he?" was the shout that we heard.

It was Steve.

I left the office and went out to see what was going on. Bobby was right behind me.

I couldn't contain my shock at the sight of him.

"Steve, what happened?"

"Where is he?" he yelled again. His eyes were wild and he was in a rage. "I went to your apartment, but they're not there. Alex, don't do this to me. Where is Nate?"

"I don't know," I answered as my heart sank. "Tell me what you know."

"Where is Cathy?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me and switching tactics.

He advanced on me slowly and I brought up a hand to his chest to keep him at an acceptable distance.

"She's at work," I said firmly. "Now tell me what's going on."

"She's not at work!" he shouted. "And Nate's not at school! I went to pick him up and they told me that his _mother_ had picked him up just before lunch. So tell me where he is!"

Bobby stepped in between us at this point, and it was probably a good thing because Steve had lost all common sense. And I wasn't in any position to defend myself from his onslaught because I couldn't focus.

_Cathy had taken Nate_?

"Take it easy, Steve," Bobby said forcefully.

"She took him," he cried out in anguish. "She screwed me, and then she screwed me over. How could I be so stupid?"

"We can help you," Bobby said soothingly. "But you have to understand that we're in the dark here. Tell us what's going on."

"She went back to Travis," he said at last.

"What?" I yelled. "No. No way."

"I _saw_ them," he insisted.

"He's out?" Bobby asked, glancing back at me with concern.

"I guess. I went to the hospital and I saw her getting out of his car, and…"

"She didn't want to get back with him," I said, although I struggled to believe my own words.

_Did she_?

She'd seemed happy last night after getting together with Steve. Would she really have changed at the drop of a hat?

"She did," he said. He proceeded to tell us what had transpired. Her panic at seeing Steve, his attack on Travis, Cathy's subsequent plea for him to listen…

And I was torn.

I wanted to believe that my sister would never go back to the likes of Travis.

And that she would never take Nate away from his father.

But it was hard to argue with the facts presented to me.

"Did you let her explain?" I asked.

_Please let there be an explanation…_

"She knew that I was mad," he said with a shake of his head. "She would've just lied to cover it up. I told her that she couldn't see Nate as long as she was around Travis. So she stole him. She stole my son."

And then he crumbled.

He'd come to the office in a fit of rage but that was only a mask for his fear and desperation.

"Where does Travis live?" he asked once he'd collected himself. "I'm going over there."

"Have you tried calling her?" I asked him rationally. "I mean, isn't it possible that she's just spending a little time with Nate this afternoon? It's too soon to jump to any conclusions."

"I've left four messages. It's turned off. It goes straight to voice mail."

"I'll try again now," I said.

The result was the same, but I left another message anyway.

_**Cathy, please call me. Whatever is going on, I can help you. Please, just call me.**_

When I hung up, Steve looked at me earnestly. He had two black eyes, a cut across the bridge of his nose, and a split lip. I hated to think what other injuries he may have that I couldn't see, but I knew that now wasn't the time to play mother hen.

Nate was gone.

And while that thought would've terrified me under normal circumstances, knowing that he was with Cathy helped tremendously.

She would never hurt him. Not physically.

So that brought me back around to Travis.

If she _was_ with him, we needed to know about it.

"Let's go," I said to Bobby.

"Where?" Steve asked.

"We'll go talk to Travis."

"I'm coming."

"That is really not a good idea," I argued, but then I saw Bobby's expression which was a near mirror of Steve's.

To an extent, this was a guy thing. Steve needed to protect his family, to protect his son.

He needed to be in on it.

"Fine. Let's go. But you have to stay back and let us handle it."

As we headed for the car, my cell phone rang. I grabbed at it quickly, hoping that it was Cathy, but it was Connie.

"Travis is out," she told me, and she sounded breathless.

"Yeah, I know," I retorted.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner, but I've been in court all day. But the restraining order is in place, so just have Cathy be vigilant, and…"

"He's already been to see her," I said.

"He violated the TRO? Did he do something to her?"

"I don't know. At the moment, I don't know where she is. We're going over to Travis' place now."

She let out a string of what were most likely obscenities, but it was in Spanish so I was clueless. I knew that she felt bad about not notifying us sooner, but I wasn't upset with her. It wasn't her job to sit on Travis.

And Cathy should've known better than to get into a car with him.

_Unless he'd threatened her…_

I hadn't really considered that he'd done something to her until Connie asked about it. What if he'd really hurt her this time? Or Nate?

"Lupo's still in Maryland," Connie said once she switched back to English. "Get another officer to meet you there. We'll take him in for violating his order."

I hung up with her and called Sean.

"She went back there?" he shouted.

"I don't know," I said. "Right now we just need to find out where she is. Or more importantly, make sure that she's not with him. Meet us over there. In uniform. We'll need you in an official capacity after I'm finished with him."

We got to Travis' apartment building and another tenant buzzed us in. As we walked down the hall, I turned to Steve.

"Stay back," I said to him. "Or he'll never open the door."

I held Bobby's gaze for a minute to convey my thoughts.

_Please let me do this._

So Bobby held onto Steve, and the two of them stayed about ten feet to the side of the door. Sean hadn't arrived yet, but I knew that he would at any moment.

"What the…" I heard Travis mumble as he undid the locks.

He pulled the door open fully, but stayed just inside the threshold. I was happy to see that he looked worse than Steve.

And I was surprised by the murderous rage that flooded me just at the sight of him. This asshole had kicked my sister while she'd lain on the floor, helpless.

"It's _you_," he said as a slow smile spread across his face. "You're the sister."

"I've been looking forward to meeting you," I said menacingly. "Where's Cathy?"

"I haven't seen that little bitch since this morning."

"Cathy!" I shouted loudly, just in case she was somewhere inside, but the apartment remained steeped in silence.

That was a good thing, right?

Because that meant that she _hadn't _brought Nate to this place.

So even if she'd made the very bad decision of trying to run away with her son, at least she hadn't compounded that by putting him in the proximity of _this _jackass.

Unless she was in there unconscious…

"I told you, bitch. She's not fucking here. I'm sure that I have you to thank for that."

I couldn't just force my way into his apartment, and I decided that Travis would be a lot more forthcoming if he was talking to just me, so I subtly waved my hand at Bobby, telling him to stay back.

I also _really_ wanted him to take a swing at me.

"Me?" I asked. "Because I told her how stupid she was for being with you?"

"You've got a smart mouth on you. Maybe you need someone to teach you a thing or two about manners."

"Is that you?" I asked with a smile. "Are _you _going to teach me?"

"I guess so," he replied. "Since apparently your husband isn't man enough to do it. What else isn't he man enough to do?"

At his suggestive remark, he took a step closer to me and let his eyes make a slow trip from my head to my toes.

"Tell me what happened at the hospital this morning," I said, ignoring his blatant lewdness.

"That's none of your business, _bitch_," he said tauntingly.

"I'm making it my business," I told him. Then I took a step into him and was pleased to see that he backed up marginally. He wasn't much taller than me, although he was a good deal heavier. I wasn't worried about my ability to hold my own against him.

Of course, it didn't hurt knowing that Bobby would be ready to snap his neck if I needed him.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "She gives good head."

I'm not sure if he thought his vulgarity would throw me, or if he was just that much of a prick.

But either way, he was an easy read.

And he was lying.

I started to feel the dueling emotions of guilt at not instantly believing in Cathy and relief at the knowledge that she hadn't caved to him.

"That's your story?" I asked him. "You beat the crap out of her, spend the weekend in jail, show up at her work, and then she blows you in the car?"

"Yeah. Hey, she loves me. And she felt bad for getting me arrested."

"No, see this is what I think happened. I think you went to her work to scare her, to intimidate her into coming back to you. You probably told her that she had to drop the charges. It's a classic batterer tactic. Make the victim feel responsible and guilty so that they keep coming back for more."

"No, uh uh. I'm a batterer?" he scoffed. "You don't know shit."

"Yeah, I do. And I'm guessing if there was anything sexual going on in that car, it was because you forced yourself on her. Is that what happened Travis?"

"No," he denied, but then he stepped back again as I moved closer.

"Oh, you're right," I agreed amicably. "There _wasn't_ anything sexual going on in the car because you probably can't get it up."

One thing I've learned over the years is that men like Travis are predictable. If their manhood is in question, they lash out.

So my remark caused him to take a swing at me.

Of course, Bobby knew it was going to happen, too, and I could hear him and Steve approaching as the things heated up.

I dodged the punch and caught him twice in the face before he had a chance to swing again.

His second effort landed a glancing blow, but I shook it off and caught him a third time in the head.

That one sent him to the floor, out cold.

"Alex?" Bobby questioned as he burst through the doorway.

"I've got him. Check the apartment, just to be sure."

And then I couldn't stop myself.

I kicked Travis while he was down.

Three times, really hard, with my pointy-toed boots.

Then I flipped him onto his stomach and pulled his hands behind his back.

"Where is Sean?" I shouted to Bobby as he searched the other rooms.

"Right here."

I turned to see him coming through the door, quickly assessing the situation.

"Couldn't wait for me, huh?" he asked as he bent down and put cuffs on Travis.

"He started it," I replied as I stood up. "We've got him for violating his restraining order and you can add a couple of assault charges to it."

"Did he get you?"

"Barely," I said with a shrug.

"There's no evidence that she's been here recently," Bobby said. "And definitely no sign of Nate."

Travis came to and started to fight against the cuffs, but Sean jerked him to his feet and then rammed him into the wall.

"Stand still and shut the hell up or I let Alex have another go at you," he warned.

Travis fell silent, so I turned to where Steve stood stock still near the door.

"She was telling the truth," he mumbled. "She…she didn't…he threatened her, didn't he?"

"Yeah, I think so," I agreed with a nod.

"This is my fault. I told her that she'd never see Nate again because I thought…I thought that…oh my God, Alex. What am I going to do? This is all my fault. I'm no better than he is."

"We'll find her," I assured him. "We'll find both of them."

TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It took every ounce of willpower that I possess to stay out of that apartment while Alex went at Travis.

I knew that she'd get him to swing at her.

He was a powder keg and she knew exactly how to light the match.

Of course, I also knew that she could take him out without any help from me.

But I still hated running the risk of having her get hurt.

But in the time it took me to cross the ten feet of hallway and enter the apartment, she had him flat on his back.

The woman packs a _serious_ punch.

And oddly enough, that thought sent a little rush of pride through me.

My wife knows how to take care of herself.

Of course, I love the idea of being able to protect her, too, but still…she was bad _ass_.

"Alex?" I'd called out, just to hear her voice and be sure that it sounded strong. I can tell a lot from the tone of her voice, sometimes more than the words themselves.

"I've got him. Check the apartment, just to be sure."

She sounded good.

I went about searching through the rooms while Alex got payback for what Travis had done to Cathy.

And Steve…he was immobilized just inside of the door. I had no doubt that he'd be blaming himself after hearing the conversation and realizing that maybe Cathy had been a victim in all of this, too.

Not originally, of course, but she apparently _hadn't_ been trying to screw him over when she'd slept with him yesterday.

She'd been sincere, and she'd tried to tell Steve that but he wouldn't listen.

I continued my search, but I couldn't find any hint that Cathy had been here recently.

Or Nate.

And usually six-year-old boys leave behind clues. They can't help themselves.

Nate in particular liked to carry a dozen or so Hot Wheels around with him and he was invariably leaving at least one behind any time he stopped moving for more than a minute.

"Where is Sean?" I heard Alex call out.

Before I could answer, I heard Sean's reply.

Good. He could take custody of Travis and carry him back to jail where he belonged.

"Did he get you?" Sean asked Alex as I went back into the living room.

"Barely," she replied. I looked over at her and saw a red patch of skin on her jaw. She caught my eye and shook her head.

_I'm fine_, the look said.

I told them what I'd found, which was nothing.

Travis regained consciousness so Sean roughed him up a bit and got him to shut up, so then my focus went to Steve.

"She was telling the truth," he mumbled. "She…she didn't…he threatened her, didn't he?"

"Yeah, I think so," Alex said.

"This is my fault. I told her that she'd never see Nate again because I thought…I thought that…oh my God, Alex. What am I going to do? This is all my fault. I'm no better than he is."

"We'll find her," she said. "We'll find both of them."

The five of us left the apartment, Sean with Travis, and Steve along with me and Alex.

I needed to think, to re-evaluate the situation.

Because removing Travis from the situation really changed things.

Cathy had taken Nate because she was afraid of being forced out of his life.

She'd been in a panic and so she'd run.

Where would she go? She barely had any money, she had no car…

And then it hit me.

"Alex," I began as she started up the car.

"What are you thinking?" she asked carefully.

"Helen."

"What?" she asked in surprise.

"Who's Helen?" Steve asked.

"We talked about that case all weekend," I said, ignoring Steve altogether. "It's not a stretch that she could've overheard. We've had that file lying around…"

"She was listening when we got home Saturday night," Alex said suddenly. "She asked me Sunday morning about the soccer trophy. She must have heard me tell you about it Saturday night."

"And we were talking about the case then, too."

"Oh no," she said. "If she went to her…"

"With bruises on her body…"

"Bobby," she said, her voice filled with worry. "We've got to talk to her. If she gets into that system, we may never find her. We won't have any way of contacting her. We'd have to wait for her to contact us, and she may never do that. Not if she thinks that we believe the worst about her."

"Guys!" Steve yelled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I watched Alex carefully as she battled with her own emotions.

"We need to take him home," I said quietly. "And go talk to Helen."

"_We_ don't need to take Steve anywhere," he argued. "I'm coming with you guys. This is my son."

"Exactly. That's why you shouldn't be involved," Alex said gently. "This is what we do. Let us do our jobs."

"He's your nephew. How is that different?"

"Because I'm an expert at separating my personal feelings from work," she replied with a pointed look at me. "I did it for years."

"She's right," I said, turning towards the backseat so that I could look at Steve. "We're going to take you home. Stay there in case she tries to call. We promise to keep you in the loop."

Steve reluctantly conceded, so we dropped him at his place and then headed for Helen's.

"You really think that she'd go to her for help?" Alex asked me as she sped down the Henry Hudson Parkway.

"I think that she was feeling desperate. And she heard us debate about how sometimes custodial kidnappings were understandable. I didn't even put the two together, but we're probably the ones who planted the seed," I told her. "Otherwise she might not have even considered it."

She sighed heavily and pushed down harder on the accelerator.

"I doubted her," she said with a shake of her head. "Steve came over and said that she'd gone back to him…"

"You only partly doubted her," I corrected. "Because you picked up on the fact that Travis was lying. And you knew that she wouldn't treat Steve so callously."

I watched her as she drove recklessly through the midday traffic. The red mark on her face was slowly getting some color, subtle shades of black and blue.

I reached out and touched her gently.

"One more thing I need to get payback for," I said quietly.

"I'm fine," she said automatically. Then she cast me a quick glance and smiled. "Although I think maybe I broke a toe when I kicked him."

"Which time?" I asked, matching her smile. "Because I think you got in a few good licks."

"Yeah, well now he knows how it feels."

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of Helen's house.

"You really think that she would help her?"

"Do you know anyone else she would go to?" I asked.

"No. I mean, if she didn't come to any of the family, then…no."

We got out of the car and went up the front steps. This time, Alex didn't knock politely.

She banged on the door.

"Alex, Bobby," Helen said in confusion when she opened the door. "What's wrong?"

"Did you help a woman today?" Alex asked her. "A woman and her son?"

"I told you that I was done sharing confidential information. I'm not going to have you two knocking on my door every day to interfere with what I'm doing. If I can't help people privately, then they'll quit coming to me, and I can't have that."

"Helen, I need an answer," Alex insisted. "Did you?"

"I'm not…"

"It's her sister," I spoke up. "Her sister and her nephew, and it's all a huge misunderstanding. We need to find them."

Helen stared at us for a long minute and then she stood back and let us into her apartment.

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

My black ops shit guy called me as we approached the Holland Tunnel.

"Dude, I got it," he said when I answered.

"You cracked the code?"

"Shit, man, it's _not_ cracking. How many times do I have to tell you that? They don't call it that anymore. They…"

"Hey!" I shouted, interrupting his tirade. "Do you know what it says or not?"

"Yeah, dude, this guy is awesome," he continued, not the least bit put off by my impatience. "At first I thought that he was just using a substitution cipher, but then I realized that it was more like a transposition cipher, and I was like dude, who is this guy, because then I ran through the potential resolutions and I kept coming up with a big pile of shit, so I had to start again, only this time I tried a polyalphabetic cipher in combination with a deranged alphabet and then I thought, dude, you're over-thinking it, so then I went for a simple Atbash cipher. And dude, guess what?"

"You're killing me," I muttered.

"Nah, man, shit but you're close."

"Huh? Close to what?"

"The code."

"What?" I yelled in frustration. "Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me what you found."

"I'm dead."

"That's what it said?"

"Nah, dude, shit! Pay attention. That was the _cipher_."

I sighed heavily and ran my hand over my face.

"I'm dead is the cipher," I repeated, hoping desperately that by saying the words out loud I might somehow come to an understanding about what they meant.

"Okay, get this. Picture the alphabet written out across the page."

"I'm with you so far."

"Now write it again, directly below it, only this time start with I-M-D-E-A-D. Then you continue on with the missing letters of the alphabet. So next would be B-C-F-G and so on. Still with me?"

"Uh huh."

"Line them up and each letter is a different letter."

"But you've got two D's," I pointed out, grateful that I actually did grasp what he was saying.

How he'd figured it out, I have no idea.

This guy was freaky smart.

"Yeah that tripped me up for a bit, but I worked it out."

"And wouldn't that mean that you'd have an extra letter in the code?"

"Shit, dude, you _do _understand it!" he said proudly. "Yeah, that's kind of how I figured out that there was a repeating letter in the cipher. No Z anywhere in the code, dude. And I know Z isn't all that popular of a letter, but still…"

"So have you translated all of the files?" I interrupted.

"Some of them. Enough to know that my cipher is accurate. And seriously, dude, I want to meet the guy who wrote this shit."

"You can't. He's dead."

"For real? Dude," he said quietly. "Prophetic."

I had to remind myself that ultimately, this guy was really quite helpful, so I needed to be tolerant of his wandering focus.

"What did you get from it?" I asked.

"It's a log. It looks like maybe this guy was following someone. It's a listing of dates and times and locations, but there aren't any names. Not yet anyway."

"Give me some of the locations."

"1PP," he said. "That's One Police Plaza, right?"

"Yeah, keep going."

"Okay, dude. Shit. 1PP, New York Times Building, Willow Lane, John Jay Park…"

"Keep working on it," I told him. "I'll come by in another hour or so and see what else you've got."

I hung up the phone as Bernard pulled into the 1PP parking garage.

"He cracked the code?" Carolyn asked, and I had to chuckle.

"It's not called _cracking_, dude," I said.

"What?"

"Sorry," I said with a shake of my head. "I just…yeah, he got it. It's some kind of cipher and he's going through all of the documents with it now. The first document was a listing of places and dates."

"He was following someone," Bernard said.

"Or someones," I said. "I'm betting that he overheard a sketchy conversation and then he started tailing them to see what they were up to."

"And he must have gotten spotted," Carolyn said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And he knew it, too. He knew he was in trouble, so he rewrote his notes using the code and then he saved it to the data stick. By hanging it on the key rack, he made it damn near impossible to find. I'm guessing that maybe he assumed it would stay there until his roomie got back from wherever."

"So he got busted checking up on them. And we're still saying Hemmings and Harker, right?"

"That's all I've got for now," I agreed. "My theory is that they paid Pebo to take him out and gather the evidence that Brubaker had been collecting, only he couldn't find it, so then they sent in the two goons that you guys ran across."

"It sounds like a great theory," Mike agreed. "But there's one problem with it."

"Only one?" I scoffed good-naturedly. "You're being too kind. But please, do tell."

"Who the hell is C-Dog?"

TBC...


	37. Chapter 37

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby and I followed Helen into her home and then she closed the door behind us.

For some reason, it felt completely different than when we'd been in here two days ago.

Then, I'd liked her.

Then, I'd understood her motivation.

Then, I'd appreciated her integrity and her morals.

Now I just wanted to badger her until she gave up every little detail.

"Tell me what this is all about," she said, gesturing for us to sit down. But I couldn't sit, and apparently Bobby couldn't either. I stood in the center of the room while Bobby made a few laps around the perimeter.

"You helped a woman earlier today," I began. "Cathy, right?"

"I don't ask names," she replied.

"Fine, but she looked a whole hell of a lot like me, didn't she?" I asked hotly.

"Alex, I'm not going to do this with you," she said firmly as she stood up a little bit straighter. "If I caved every time a family member came to me for information…"

"Did she tell you that her husband beat her?" Bobby spoke up. "Did she show you the bruises? Is that how she got you to help her on such short notice?"

"I told you about Paul because Adam is two months away from his eighteenth birthday, and I feel confident that he's safe. But it ends there. I'm not some kind of informant."

"Good because we're not cops, so we don't use informants. We use concerned citizens who are interested in doing the right thing simply because it _is_ the right thing. And if Cathy suckered you in by telling you that her husband was beating her…"

"Suckered me in? I know how to read people."

"So she _was_ here," I stated.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to," Bobby said as he bent down near the couch to pick something up.

When he stood, he held out his hand. A Hot Wheels car.

"Our nephew was here," he continued in a strong voice. "And you helped them because you thought they were being hurt. We don't blame you for that, but you're wrong. It was a huge misunderstanding, and we need to find her."

"Bruises aren't misunderstandings," she argued, although at least she was no longer denying that Cathy had been here.

A mixture of emotions flooded me now that we had some sort of confirmation that she'd been helped by Helen.

It meant that she was on to the next link in the chain. It meant that if she stayed a step ahead of us, we may never find her.

But it also meant that she and Nate weren't out on the street somewhere with little money and no support.

"They didn't come from her husband," I explained. "They came from an abusive boyfriend."

Helen looked back and forth between me and Bobby, a shocked look on her face.

"But…I was so sure," she said at last.

"That's because she read our file on you," Bobby told her. "She knew what to say and how to act. And it's partly because she believes that she is in danger. The man who beat her also threatened her, and possibly her son. She thinks that she's doing the right thing."

Helen dropped heavily into a chair and put her face in her hands.

"Thirty years I've been doing this. Thirty years, and I've never been wrong. Not that I ever found out about anyway. I'm always so careful…"

"Helen, we need to know where she is."

"She wanted to go to London," she admitted on a heavy sigh. "I should've known when she asked…I should've thought about it since you two were just here about Paul…"

"You sent her to London?"

"No. No, there's no way I could do that on such short notice. I had more time with Paul, and I planned it that way for him because…well, because he was an unusual case."

"Because you usually help women," Bobby stated.

"Right. And a lot of the volunteers are women who were abused themselves at some point in their past."

"That's why you handled Paul yourself."

"Yes."

"Okay, so we know where she isn't," I said. I was getting anxious to get to the point. "Where did she go?"

"You don't get it, do you?" she said with a shake of her head. "I have _no_ idea. That's the point. We never know."

"But you sent her somewhere," I insisted. "You gave her directions of some sort."

"I gave her three hundred dollars in cash and a disposable cell phone."

"Whose number was in it?"

"One person. Her first contact."

"Tell us how it works," Bobby said.

"She's supposed to get on the subway going north and then call the number in the phone. That person gives her instructions as to which stop to get off at, and where to go from there."

"Who is that person?"

"I don't know," she said. "I only have the number. This network was set up way before my time. I don't ask questions. I just do what I can to help."

I looked at Bobby, more for support than anything else.

_What next?_

"Give us a phone," he said.

"What?"

"Give us a phone. We'll follow the chain."

"But you can't."

"Why not? We won't out anybody. We're not here to shut you down. If we wanted to do that, we could've done so after our meeting Saturday, right?"

"But…"

"Give us a phone," he ordered, and his tone of voice seemed to break her trance.

She got up from the chair and went into the adjacent room.

"Bobby, what if we can't catch up to her?" I whispered. "She's being hidden by people who are experts at this very thing. What if she never calls?"

As ashamed as I was to admit it, I was on the verge of a breakdown.

There were so many things that I wished I'd said to Cathy, and yet now I was faced with the very real possibility that I may never see her again.

And Nate…

"Alex," he said, somehow firmly and softly at the same time. He slipped his hand onto my cheek and looked at me with intensity. "We will find them. I promise you."

"But…"

"No buts. Have you ever known me to break a promise to you?"

"No. Never."

"And I'm not going to start now."

He stared at me a moment longer as I struggled to rein in my emotions and then Helen came back into the room.

"Okay," she said, holding out a cell phone. "I'm trusting you. We save a lot of women's lives here…a lot of children's lives…so find out what you need to know and then leave us alone."

"Of course," Bobby agreed as he took the phone.

He put it in his pocket, and then took hold of my hand and started for the door.

"If you hear anything more, you'll call us, right?" I asked Helen as Bobby opened the door.

"I won't," she said.

"You won't call us?"

"I won't hear anything. Once they're gone, they're gone."

* * *

Ross POV

Lupo had called to give me the heads up about Harker, but so far, I hadn't been able to track him down and it was starting to piss me off.

I should've fired that little weasel when I had the chance.

"Don," I said when the OCCB captain got on the line. I put it on speaker and leaned back in my chair. "It's Danny. I can't get my hands on your boy Harker."

"I can't blame him for playing hide and seek with you, Danny. He said your guys roughed him up yesterday."

"Roughed him up?" I said, barking out a laugh. "No, but they will. He's got some explaining to do, and I need to get him back in here."

"What do you want me to say? He's on a three-day vacation. I don't own him when he's off the clock."

"He should be required to return messages left by his superior officer," I replied. "Whether he's on or off the clock."

I looked up as I heard a commotion in the squad room, and I saw Lupo and Bernard crossing the room along with Mike and Carolyn.

I waved them into my office and held a finger to my lips before pointing at the phone to let them know that I was on a call.

"You gonna tell me how to do my job?" Don asked me in annoyance.

"Maybe somebody should," I retorted.

And yeah, I probably could've been a little bit nicer, but was the man not concerned at all that MCS detectives were looking for one of his guys?

If that were me, I'd have the detective in question gift-wrapped, injected full of sodium pentothal and sitting in the squad room within the hour.

"Maybe someone needs to kick you off that high horse of yours," he shot back. "MCS is not the ruling department of the NYPD. You're no better than me."

"Well, maybe not in rank," I quantified.

"Fuck you, Danny. If you want Harker so bad, you can find him your damn self."

His statement was followed by dial tone, which was immediately followed by Bernard's chuckle.

"Ouch," he said.

"Damn, Captain. And here I thought that I was the one with the rep of being hard to get along with," Mike added.

"He's an idiot," I said dismissively. "No captain worth his bars would let his detective run evasive maneuvers on another department."

"So we don't have Harker," Lupo stated.

"Nope. According to his captain, he's on a three-day leave."

"Well, that's convenient," Carolyn remarked.

"So you really think that he's behind this?" I asked. "I mean, it's a long way from being an ass-kisser to being a…what, a murderer? Do we really think that he had Brubaker killed?"

"I don't know, Cap," Bernard said. "But it's looking like it."

"What did you find in the NCIC report?"

"So far we have six felons named Pebo in the tri-state area," Lupo said from memory. "Three are in prison, two are dead, and the other one has an airtight alibi."

"So he's not a local," I stated. "What else?"

"Nearly two dozen more nationwide," Bernard replied. "We haven't run them all down yet."

"What about the other name? C-Dog?"

"That one's even worse."

"And it's always a possibility that Pebo or C-dog aren't _known_ aliases," Carolyn pointed out. "I mean, I could start calling myself C-dog if I wanted to, and how long would it take before it got added to someone's database?"

She had a valid argument. It would've been nice to be able to track those two down via the NCIC report, but it certainly couldn't be our only source of information.

"Okay, where's your guy on that data stick?" I asked Lupo. "Is he as good as you say?"

"Better. He's annoying as hell, Cap, but he gets the job done. He's already figured out the type of code that was used, so now he's working to decipher the files."

"So far, it looks like Brubaker was keeping a log of someone's activities," Carolyn said.

"Someone who regularly goes to 1PP," Mike added.

"Daily?" I asked.

"We didn't get the full report yet, so we're not sure of the details. I hope to get everything by the end of the day," Lupo told me.

"I hate to bring this up, Captain, but considering we're in CYA mode," Mike said. "Has the paperwork been filled out for us to be joining this investigation? Now that they've merged, I mean."

"No, but I'll take care of it this afternoon," I assured him.

And I appreciated that he was looking out for me.

"Me and Bernard will go to Harker's New York address and see if we can get a visual on him. Depending on how it works out, we'll either bring him in for questioning, or we may just follow him."

"Do we have enough yet for a warrant?" I asked him.

He looked at me for a moment, and then smiled.

"You're asking me, Cap? Don't you usually make that decision?"

"You're the one dating an ADA," I replied with a grin. "I'm not above using our assets. You want a fast-tracked autopsy, then I'm your guy. But when it comes to warrants, well…that would be you."

It wasn't beyond my notice that I was no longer running the ship like I used to. I was treating my detectives as equals rather than subordinates.

Or at least, these two detectives. But they'd earned it.

"Oh, so my girlfriend is an asset?" he retorted with a shake of his head. "I'm sure she'll love that. But in answer to your question, no. I don't think we're quite there yet."

"Okay," I agreed. "Then go sit on Harker's place and call me with regular updates."

"Yes sir," Lupo said.

And that was the thing that I'd learned from the Gorens that I wish I'd known before. I didn't have to rule with an iron fist to earn a captain's respect. I treated Lupo and Bernard as colleagues, and they still respected me, respected the position.

So the two of them went off to stake out the apartment while Mike and Carolyn sat at their vacated desks and scoured through the NCIC report.

I went back to work, too, and the time passed quickly, because I didn't even realize that it was nearly seven until my phone rang and pulled me from my thoughts.

"Ross," I answered without looking.

"Danny…"

It was Liz and her voice cracked on just those two syllables.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I hopped up from my chair.

"It's…I need you. Please hurry."

"Liz, what is it?" I asked as I ran for the door. "Are you at the morgue?"

"Yeah…I…there was…a man…"

My heart was in my throat at the sound of my normally composed wife now barely able to form a sentence.

I snapped my fingers at Mike and Carolyn as I hustled through the squad room and when they looked up, I waved from them to follow me.

They must have been able to read the panic on my face because they both immediately jumped up and hurried to fall into step beside me.

"A man _what_?" I asked, half afraid to hear the answer.

_She called me_, I reminded myself.

She was okay enough to make a phone call, so that was something.

"He attacked me," she said at last.

I came to a dead stop as the elevator doors opened. I couldn't seem to make my feet move as all sorts of horrible scenarios crossed my mind.

"What happened?" I asked.

I was met with silence as Mike guided me onto the elevator and jabbed the correct button.

"Liz," I said again. "What happened?"

"I killed him."

TBC...


	38. Chapter 38

**Lupo POV**

* * *

Bernard and I drove to Harker's mid-town apartment building, and I managed to find a spot right up front.

"How do you want to play this?" I asked Bernard as we crossed the street and went up to the front door.

"Well, the mutual Ross-hating thing sort of worked yesterday."

"I think we go with his angle," I countered.

"Which is what?"

"That he's innocent. Let's say that we think Hemmings is using him, like she used you."

"Now that hurts, Lupes," he said, but he flashed me a grin.

"Hey, didn't you sleep with Kim two nights ago?" I reminded him.

"_And_ last night," he added, his smiled widening.

"Yeah, that," I said. I really didn't need to know the details of Bernard's sex life. "My point is that maybe you play up to being a mutual victim."

"Okay," he agreed with a shrug. "I can swallow my pride."

"I just think coming at him as a kindred spirit will get us a lot farther," I explained.

"You don't have to sell me on it. I'm in."

We were met at the front entrance by a doorman.

"Nice digs for a guy paying double rent," Bernard mumbled to me.

"We're here to see Detective Harker," I told the doorman as I flashed him my badge.

"He's not in."

"Are you sure?"

The doorman raised an eyebrow and looked at me distastefully.

"Quite," he replied. "He left at nine-thirty this morning. He has not returned."

So Bernard and I went back to the car and settled in for the wait.

"If he's off for three days, maybe he went to Maryland. Leaving at nine-thirty, he would've gotten there while we were still at his apartment," Bernard remarked.

"And what? You think he saw our car and made us?"

"Maybe," he replied. He shrugged and looked out the window.

"I'm sorry that we had to print your place," I said after a few moments.

We'd gone directly to his apartment when we got back into town and Logan had spread black powder around in the living room and the bathroom, the only two rooms that Hemmings had gone into, according to Bernard. He'd pulled quite a few prints, so we'd dropped them at the lab to let them sort things out.

"It's not your fault," he answered. "It's mine for not showing better judgment."

"She played you," I said. "She's a con artist. You've got to let it go."

"Yeah, and do what? Move on to Kim? The girl who would've just as easily gone home with you as with me?"

"Nah, Kim's your rebound girl," I told him with a grin. "She's the one who's a lot of fun and helps you get over Janelle. Now the _next_ one…she'll be the one."

"Are you getting all sappy on me, Lupes?" he asked.

"Me? No!" I insisted. But hell, maybe I was. Or maybe it was just because…

My cell phone kept me from having to further analyze my sudden desire to have a heart-to-heart chat with my partner.

"Lupo," I answered.

"What are you wearing?"

I smiled immediately at Connie's playfulness, but then I forced myself to school my features.

Bernard already knew too much about my personal life. I had to draw the line somewhere, and keeping him from being privy to the idea that Connie liked to talk dirty on the phone seemed like as good a place as any.

"Stake out," I said rather than answering her flirtatious question.

"Ah…so you're in the car with Bernard?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. You know, I just got home and it was really warm in here, so I decided to just take everything off, and…"

"Connie!" I interrupted, and she started laughing.

"I'm sorry. I had to tease you."

"Yeah, uh huh."

I'd get her back later.

"I'm actually still at work," she admitted.

"Alone, I hope."

The idea of Cutter sitting next to her while she suggested that she was naked might just put me over the edge.

"Of course. Hey, have you talked to Alex this afternoon? Because Travis got out today," she said, efficiently switching to business. "And he already violated the TRO."

"He violated? Is Cathy okay?"

"I'm not sure. When we spoke, Alex wasn't sure where Cathy was and so she was going to Travis' place to look for her. I know that Sean Eames went with her and he put Travis back in jail, but I don't know what happened with Cathy."

"Is that him?" Bernard said, tapping me on the arm. A man was walking up the street toward the apartment building, but he was wearing a baseball cap low over his eyes so it was hard to tell for sure.

"Maybe. Yeah, I think so," I replied. "Hey, Connie, I've got to go. Check in with Alex and let me know something, okay?"

"Sure. I'll see you tonight."

I hung up the phone and put it back in my pocket as the man in question went up to the front door of the building. The doorman stopped him and spoke with him and then gestured in our direction.

"That sniveling little…" Bernard mumbled as he reached for the door handle.

The man was now crossing the street, heading directly for our car, so we both got out, and I walked around to stand next to Bernard.

It was definitely Harker.

"You guys are staking me out?" he asked.

"Well, you wouldn't RSVP to our invitation," Bernard replied.

"I'm on vacation. Can't it wait until Thursday?"

"It'll only take a few minutes. Why don't you invite us up?" I suggested.

"It's a nice night," he countered. "If it's only going to be a few minutes, we can do it right here."

This was not going how I'd hoped.

He was adversarial because we'd been caught watching for him. We couldn't surreptitiously snoop around his apartment. And now we couldn't follow him either, because he'd be expecting it.

So I gave Bernard a look, and he gave me a nod.

It was time to play hardball.

"We pulled prints of the headboard in the extra bedroom at your place in Chevy Chase," I said.

"What do you think that'll tell you? And no way in hell will it be admissible."

"Admissible? As in, as evidence?" Bernard questioned. "So you're acknowledging the fact that it's only a matter of time before we're able to press charges against you."

"What kind of charges?"

"You tell us," I said. "You're the one talking about admissible evidence. Oh, and by the way, we had a warrant. A federal warrant based on the fact that your girlfriend used a phony social security number to open a bank account on which she used your address."

"My girlfriend. And who is this girlfriend?"

"A.J. Hemmings."

"Oh, okay. So tell me why she'd be sleeping in the spare bedroom if she was my girlfriend?"

And that was a very good question.

"Okay, so she's just a fuck buddy," Bernard replied.

"What?" Harker shouted.

"No offense," Bernard said quickly. "I mean, she was mine, too, so I get it."

Harker's face darkened briefly, and it was the first real sign of weakness.

_Nicely played, Bernard_.

"You guys are barking up the wrong tree," Harker said sharply. "I don't know this Hemmings person. I don't know why she used my address. And I don't know whose prints you got off of that headboard because I just bought that damn bed three weeks ago at a consignment shop."

This guy was good.

And if he was telling the truth about the bed, then there went our potential proof of Hemmings being in his apartment.

"For the purpose of what?" Bernard asked him.

"What?"

"Why did you buy a bed three weeks ago for an apartment that you're not even living in," I clarified.

"Is it a crime to furnish my apartment?" he asked with a grin. "I don't think so. Next question."

"Who is C-Dog?" I asked, hoping to catch him off guard.

"Um…I don't know. I guess you got me on that one. What is he, a rapper or a gangster or something?"

"Oh, you're a funny man, huh?" Bernard replied. "Okay, funny man. Have you ever heard the one about the cop who tried to screw over his old boss and ended up in Rikers? That's a _real_ funny one."

"Look, guys. Here's the thing. I wouldn't piss on Ross if he was on fire, but that doesn't mean that I'm out to get him. I don't know who this Hemmings woman is and I've never heard of anyone named C-Dog. So can we give it a rest, please? Jeez, I thought Major Case was supposed to be the best of the best."

"Oh it is," Bernard said with a slow nod. "And you just keep playing the innocent card and you'll find out how good we are."

"I'm shaking in my boots, Bernard. Good luck to you."

Harker turned away from us and walked back across the street to his building.

"That was interesting," I said as we watched him go inside.

"Uh huh. He sure didn't like me calling Hemmings his fuck buddy, did he? Kind of odd, considering he doesn't know her."

"My thoughts exactly."

We got back in the car and were debating the merits of waiting around to see if he left again versus just heading for home when my cell phone rang.

"It's my guy," I told Bernard just before I answered. "Yeah, Lupo."

"Dude, was this guy some kind of fiction writer or something?"

"Not that I know of," I answered. "Why? What have you got?"

"Some freaky shit, man. Okay, check it. One document was the log. I told you about that one. Dates and times and places and shit, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, another one had like a conversation or something. At first I couldn't figure it out, because dude, the guy didn't use quotation marks or anything and I'm thinking, dude, hello, how tough is punctuation, but so anyway it's all in one big run-on sentence, but it says stuff like, how are we going to do it and then it says we'll set him up and it'll be perfect because that way we can get one to take care of the other. Crazy shit, right? I mean, dude. It's like Hitchcock or some shit."

"What else?" I said, although half of my brain was working trying to decipher what the words might mean.

Presumably, Brubaker had been listening to Hemmings and Harker.

So they were going to commit a crime and set Ross up for it?

Or was it something else?

"Okay, dude, now check _this_. The dude thinks someone is watching him. One whole document is like a last will and testament kind of thing, only it's not. It's more like a confession. Or a…a…shit, I don't know."

"What does it say?" I encouraged.

"It's like a letter to some guy named Lou and it says that if something were to happen to him then he should call the cops because he's pretty sure that he's being followed and the last time he was in New York he thinks that she saw him, except that he doesn't say who _she_ is. In fact, he doesn't say who anyone is in the whole thing except for this Lou dude, which is pretty weird don't you think? I mean, he sounds like he's trying to expose a murder plot or something but even with the code and the encryption, he's still afraid to mention anyone by name."

"Is that it?"

"No, dude, shit, there's miles of this stuff. You want me to read it all verbatim over the phone?"

"No," I said. "No, I'll come pick it up. Can you print it out for me?"

I would've loved for him to email it, but I knew he didn't work that way. He was much too paranoid.

"Sure dude. Shit, so this stuff is for real?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Okay well, then here's one more thing. He tells this Lou dude to call the cops, right? But then later he puts a phone number for Lou to call."

"212 or 301?"

"What?"

"The area code."

"Oh, shit dude, I didn't know what the fuck…okay, yeah, 212. Why would it be 301? And dude, why would the guy say _when he was in New York_? Where else would he be?"

"I can't give you all of the details," I reminded him. "You know that. Okay, so give me the number."

"Yeah, but dude, hey, I wasn't done. He gives the number and then he says _if he's not dead_. So the guy, the guy whose number this is, this code-writing dude thinks that guy is gonna get killed, right? Shit, isn't that some serious Hitchcock shit?"

"Yes it is," I agreed. "The number?"

He read off the digits, and I thanked him and told him that I'd be by later. Then I hung up and looked at Bernard.

"Well?"

I filled him in on what my guy had told me.

"And whose number is it?" Bernard asked me.

"Ross. It's his cell."

TBC...


	39. Chapter 39

**Liz POV**

* * *

I hung up the phone with Danny, but I couldn't move.

I deal with dead bodies every day, but this one was different.

This one was dead because _I'd_ killed him.

And that distinction changed everything.

So I stood in my autopsy suite, with one cadaver on the table, and another one on the floor, and I watched the clock as it ticked off the minutes.

How long would it take him to get here?

Too long, even though I had no doubt that he'd be moving at breakneck speed.

And since when did I need someone else quite so badly?

Now. Since right now.

I was the only living person in the morgue at the moment because I'd let my assistant leave early. She had a sick baby at home and there was no reason why I couldn't finish up the autopsy myself.

The other ME on duty had gotten a call-out about thirty minutes ago, and he'd taken the other assistant with him.

So it was just me.

And a guy by the name of Thomas Kowalski.

He was the corpse on the table.

I'd been nearly through the exam, having already determined that he'd died due to natural causes, when I heard a noise.

And I can't say why it caught my attention. It's an old building and it sometimes makes odd, random noises.

But I'd turned to look at the door.

No one was there, but there was a small spot of mud on the other-wise clean floor.

The sight of the mud caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up, because I knew for a fact that the floor had been clean ten minutes ago.

I run a tight ship and cleanliness in a morgue is vital.

We were gathering evidence in here and it would be unacceptable to have a sample contaminated due to a less-than-spotless environment.

I quickly glanced around the room, but I didn't see anyone and nothing else seemed amiss.

"You're losing it, Liz," I said aloud.

And then I laughed at myself because it had to be a sure sign that I _was_ losing it since I was talking to myself.

I turned back to finish sewing up the Y-incision in Mr. Kowalski's chest, but only two stitches in, I heard another sound.

This time it sounded like it was coming from the bathroom, so I put down my instrument and stepped back from the table.

I was halfway to the bathroom when suddenly a man appeared in the doorway.

I froze in mid-stride and took stock of the situation.

He was a big man, tall and bulky, and he had on gloves and a ski mask.

He held a knife in his hand. And not a small one, either.

I was well-educated on types of murder weapons and the specs came quickly to mind.

It was a Gerber Mark II with a double-sided serrated blade. The blade itself was six, maybe seven inches long and made of black oxide-coated steel.

We eyeballed each other while I forced my mind to cease with the report-ready specifics and instead scrambled to remember exactly where I'd laid down my scalpel.

But then he burst through the doorway and caught me at the waist, taking me down to the ground.

He knocked the wind out of me as his weight pressed down on me, effectively pinning me against the tile floor.

And just like that, I flashed back to all those years ago when I'd nearly been raped.

But I'd escaped then, and I damn sure wasn't going to give up without a fight this time.

I wasn't going to need to know the specs of this murder weapon, because there wasn't going to_ be_ any murder.

_Unless I killed him_.

But desperation filled me as I realized that he was so much heavier than me that I could barely move.

And I could scream, but no one was around to hear me.

He was holding that very large blade against my throat, but so far he hadn't made a move to cut me.

Instead, he shifted against me, and with his free hand, he reached between our bodies in an effort to untie my pants.

_You have _got_ to be kidding me_, I thought.

This was exactly like what had happened before.

And of course I had the string tied in a knot.

I always did, every single day since that incident.

But his focus on trying to get the knot undone with one gloved hand made him relax the blade against my neck. I bucked up against him, throwing him off balance, and then began kicking and thrashing with everything that I had.

I managed to get him off of me and I scrambled to my feet.

"I don't know where you think you're going," he said as he came after me.

I felt his hand grab at the back of my shirt just as I got to the counter top.

I reached out blindly, but I couldn't keep from being flung backwards where I landed hard on the floor.

He was on me again, and he moved quickly for a man of his size.

This time, he didn't bother trying to undo the knot. He used the knife to cut through the string, but he was so focused on my pants, that he didn't see what was in my hand.

What I'd managed to grab off of the table.

My scalpel.

And yeah, I'd grabbed the wrong end in my haste to get a weapon, but slicing my palm open was a small price to pay for potentially saving my life.

I managed to flip it around in my hand and, as he moved his hands into the waistband of my pants in an effort to get them off of me, I jabbed the scalpel into his neck.

And yeah, I know exactly where to put it.

So now, as I stood waiting for Danny, I was covered in my attacker's blood from where I'd severed his carotid artery.

And the cut on my hand was a large, gaping wound which was bleeding freely.

But I didn't cry.

Instead, I idly diagnosed myself as being in a state of shock.

Although maybe that was an understatement.

The truth was more that I was _scarcely_ holding myself together.

My pants hung loosely on my hips, barely staying in place, but I didn't want to touch them.

I didn't want to touch anything.

I just wanted Danny to get here.

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

"What the hell is going on, Captain?" Logan asked me as we rode down in the elevator.

"That was Liz," I said numbly. "She was attacked. She killed him."

"Is she okay?" Carolyn asked quickly.

"I don't know. She sounded shaken up, but she didn't say if she was hurt."

I was overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness and a feeling that I needed to be at the morgue _right this second_.

Someone had gone after _my_ Liz?

Was it because of me?

Because of this whole mess?

Or was it random?

"Give me your keys," Mike said as we hustled through the parking garage. I didn't argue, but instead just pulled them out and gave them to him.

As he sped towards the morgue, I got a call from Lupo.

"Hey, Cap, I got some disturbing news," he said.

"Take a number," I muttered.

"What?"

"Is it an emergency? Because if it's not, I can't deal with it right now."

"You need to watch your back, Cap. I think someone might be coming after you."

"Coming after me?" I asked, suddenly giving him my full attention. "Why do you say that? Are you sure that it's me?"

"No, I'm not sure, but I think so. My guy deciphered some of the documents, and it looks like maybe they're plotting to kill you."

I was quiet as I made sense of what he was saying.

Maybe this _was_ related.

Only maybe they'd decided to hit me where it would really hurt by going after Liz instead of me.

_She killed him_, I reminded myself.

"Cap, what's going on?" he asked at my continued silence.

"Someone tried to kill Liz," I said.

Even saying the words hurt, and I really, really needed to see her, just to convince my mind that she was, in fact, okay.

"Is she okay?" he asked in alarm. "Where is she? What happened?"

"I don't know. She's at the morgue. I'm headed there now."

"Don't go alone. It might be a trap."

"A trap? To get me?" I questioned. "Fine. I hope there is someone waiting there for me. I'll have something for him."

"Cap…"

"I'm not alone. Mike and Carolyn are with me."

"Good. We're on the way, too. Me and Bernard will work the scene. You just take care of Liz."

As if he had to tell me that.

I did appreciate the thought, but this just wasn't one of those times where I'd be putting my job first.

That wasn't me anymore anyway.

Liz came first.

Logan parked halfway on the curb right in front of the building and left the siren on top to hopefully help keep it from getting towed.

And then we ran, literally ran, into the morgue.

I slowed down as I got to the end of the hall.

It was eerily quiet and there wasn't a soul in sight.

It must have spooked Mike, too, because he pulled his gun as I carefully opened the door.

"Liz?" I asked as I entered the room.

And then I saw her. She was standing on the far side of the room and was covered in blood.

"Watch where you step," she said without emotion.

And even though she didn't move as the three of us came into the room, I saw her start to shake.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I approached her slowly. I felt like I was trying to capture a wild filly that might bolt at any moment.

Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears and then I noticed that her pants were only halfway up her hips.

A fresh wave of panic hit me.

_If he'd hurt her like that, he couldn't be dead enough…_

Mike stood over the body while Carolyn got down close and checked for a pulse.

"He's definitely dead," she said. Then she looked up at Liz. "You did good, Liz," she said.

"What happened?" I asked her gently. "Did he…"

"He tried," she said, and then she shook her head slowly. I noticed that several tears made their way down her cheeks. "And that distracted him enough for me to get away, but then he caught me again, and I…I managed to get a hold of the scalpel and…well, you can see what happened next…who is he?"

"Let's find out," Mike said as he bent down next to Carolyn. Slowly, they worked off the ski mask, but even without it, we were no closer to knowing his identity.

"Let's get some gloves on and get started on the scene," Carolyn said to Mike and then she looked at me. "Lupo's coming right?"

"Yeah, but go ahead," I told her. I couldn't take my eyes off of Liz. "Your hand."

"It's okay," she replied as she glanced down at her hand that was still dripping blood. "I'll stitch it up later."

She was going to stitch up her own hand.

And she thought that _Alex_ was tough.

"Let's get you out of these clothes, okay?"

"They're evidence," she argued weakly. "They're…"

"We'll bag them," I said. "Come on."

I reached out tentatively and touched her on the shoulder in an effort to get her to follow me into the bathroom, but the gesture seemed to break her trance. She suddenly turned to me and went straight into my arms.

Her tears came harder as she leaned heavily against me, and I just held on as tightly as I could.

I couldn't remember a time when I've ever felt more grateful.

"It's okay," I murmured into her hair as I ran my hand over her back.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Now I've messed up the evidence and…"

"It's fine," I assured her. "We'll bag my clothes, too. It's okay. I'm just so glad that you're alright."

"I thought that…I really thought that…he was on top of me and I could barely breathe and he had the knife against my throat, and…"

She trailed off her sentence as she continued to cry.

I held her and tried to be strong for her, even though the idea of what she'd gone through made me want to be sick.

If she hadn't already killed him, I would've hunted him down and done it myself.

As I thought about her attacker, I glanced over her shoulder to where Mike and Carolyn were working as unobtrusively as possible.

Mike pulled an object out of the man's back pocket and held it out for Carolyn to look at.

"What is it?" I asked them.

"It's…um…it looks like maybe this was going to be a set up."

TBC...


	40. Chapter 40

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We left our car in a public parking lot that was two blocks from the Fulton Street Station.

Before we went below, I handed Alex the disposable cell.

"Go ahead and make the call while we still have a good signal."

"What do I say?"

"I don't know. I guess let her take the lead. Just find out where we need to get off at and then where to go from there."

She nodded and pushed the button to make the call.

She listened for a minute without saying a word and then she closed the phone and stuck it in her pocket.

"What did she say?" I asked her.

"He," she corrected.

"It was a man?"

"Uh huh. He said to take the six up to Broadway-Lafayette, then switch to the B."

"Into Brooklyn?"

"He said to get off at Sheepshead Bay."

"Nice neighborhood," I said sarcastically. "Then what?"

"Walk three blocks east. There's supposedly a used car lot on the corner."

"That's it?"

"That's all we've got for now."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "Let's do it."

"Should I call anyone first?" she asked me. "Sean? My dad?"

"Let's just find her," I said. "She's only a few hours ahead of us. No need getting everyone in an uproar if we're able to track her down tonight."

And when I said it, I felt pretty confident. I mean, we're a couple of highly intelligent former detectives who have basically spent our entire adult lives searching for people.

How hard would it be to find a woman and a child when they only had a slim head start?

So I took Alex by the hand and headed down the stairs into the subway station.

It took nearly forty minutes to make the trip slightly north and then east and south to Sheepshead Bay.

We got off as the sun was starting to go down, and I was really glad that we were both packing.

It wasn't a great part of town to be in during the daylight, much less the darkness.

That thought made me feel for the poor women who had made this trip and yet were running for their lives…defenseless and nearly out of hope.

As upset as Helen was about making a mistake with Cathy, I still had to commend her for her dedication to helping battered women.

She was truly making a difference.

"I think I need to go into the place by myself," Alex said. "Whoever is going to meet me is expecting a single woman. And I honestly don't even know how they're going to know that it's me, but I'm just hoping that someone will approach me."

"Okay," I agreed.

We still had another block to go, so I let her get ahead of me, but I kept a close eye on her.

I could see the used car lot in the distance. There were lights on in the parking lot and in the building.

I stood still at the corner as Alex crossed the lot and went into the side door.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I was slightly apprehensive about going the last distance alone, but then I gave myself a mental kick in the ass.

Since when was I afraid of anything?

Besides, Cathy and Nate had just been here.

And sure, they'd come in the daylight, but still…what exactly was I afraid of?

As I opened the door and went inside the rundown office of the used car lot, the cell phone in my pocket began to ring.

Not my phone.

The disposable.

"Hello?" I answered uncertainly.

"You're there?" the man said.

"Yes."

"I'll be there in five minutes."

I pulled out my own phone and sent Bobby a text.

_**He'll be here in five. Come on**_.

And then I waited.

I stood in the center of the room and checked out my surroundings.

Shelves lined one wall, but there were only a handful of books on them. Books with titles like _The Ringmaster_, _Mr. Playboy: Hugh Hefner and the American Dream_, and _Private Parts_.

And it's not that I expected Tolstoy or anything, but still…

The floor was covered in dust and the corners of the room were a battleground for numerous types of spiders. There was a desk on one side, presumably where the paperwork was handled for cars that were sold, but it didn't look like it had seen much business recently.

There were a few file folders scattered about on the surface, and I also saw the leading edge of a copy of Hustler magazine.

_Great._

The guy was jacking off in between selling cars and helping battered women.

Did Helen have any idea about this guy? I mean, I knew that she said she didn't know any names or anything, but really…how had he become part of the chain?

I heard footsteps approaching, and not from the outside, so I stood up a little straighter and prepared to meet my supposed savior.

"Alex Eames?" he asked in surprise.

And that just completely threw me for a loop.

I stared hard at him and attempted to sort through my mental rolodex to put a name to the face.

He was about five-five and nearly two hundred pounds, although most of it appeared to be in his gut.

He had very little hair left. On his head anyway. He had gray chest hairs coming out of the top of his v-neck t-shirt shirt, enough that made it appear as though a small furry animal was attempting to escape.

His skin was pale and pasty and he wore little round glasses that looked much too small for his face. Or maybe it was just that his face had gotten a lot larger since he'd bought the frames.

Whichever the case, I was at a loss.

"I should've known," he said. He shook his head as a slow smile spread across his face. "Wow, you look great."

"I'm…I…um…I'm sorry," I said at last.

"Oh, no…I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head again. "You come here for help and anonymity and yet your name was the first thing out of my mouth. My apologies. It's just…it's so damn good to see you!"

He came towards me then with his arms open wide.

I wasn't sure where to go, but I knew that I didn't want him touching me. Fortunately, Bobby chose that moment to walk through the door, and his arrival caused the man to stop in his tracks.

"Can I help you?" he asked Bobby, and then to my surprise, he took a step closer in an effort to get between us.

I suddenly felt bad for judging the man on his looks, because here he was, trying to protect me from this unknown perceived danger.

"Alex?" Bobby said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod, and then I touched the guy's arm and got him to step back so that I could move around him to stand next to Bobby.

"Alex, what's going on?" the guy said.

"This is my husband. We're here because we need your help."

"Okay, now I'm really confused," he said. He furrowed his brow and raised his chin, and then kind of looked down at me between squinted eyelids.

And that look sparked my memory.

Oh my God.

"Ted Conyers," I said.

"Yeah, yeah!" he agreed quickly. "I knew you couldn't forget! How have you been? Wow, it's been forever!"

I felt Bobby tense slightly beside me as Ted rambled on and on, and to be honest, I wasn't all that interested in taking this little stroll into the past.

For starters, I had more important things on my mind, but also because….well, just because.

"Ted, you helped a woman a few hours ago, right?"

"It was Cathy, wasn't it?" he asked with a nod. "I knew that she looked familiar, but I couldn't place her for sure until I saw you."

It was nice to know that not every link in the chain was as tight-lipped as Helen.

Maybe this wouldn't be an impossible task after all.

"I need to find her," I said.

"Oh, no," he said. "That's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" Bobby said, taking another subtle step closer to me.

"Because that's not how this thing works. I shouldn't have even said her name."

"Okay. But you did. And you sent her to the next person. Who is that?"

"I don't know."

"What kind of instructions did you give her?"

"I gave her a car. There were instructions in the glove box, but I didn't put them there so I have no idea what they said."

"Who put them there?"

"I don't know."

I sighed heavily and looked at Bobby.

I mean, this whole process was impressive.

Really.

People who didn't know each other were working together to help other people whom they didn't know.

But man…it was frustrating trying to break through it.

"What kind of car did you give her?" Bobby asked him.

"A black Mazda TR6," he answered. "She was sweet, too. I would've liked to have kept her on the lot to sell, but…it doesn't always work out like that."

"Where did it come from?"

"I don't ask."

"So it's stolen," Bobby said.

He just shrugged and looked away.

"Give us the plates," I said.

"I'll check," he said, but then he took another minute to look me up and down. "Wow, Alex. You really do look great."

He slipped through a backroom door before I had a chance to respond. Bobby cleared his throat loudly until I forced myself to look at him.

"Please, please, _please_…do not ask."

"Oh, I'm asking," he said, fighting back a smirk.

"Bobby…"

"Okay, I'll save it and ask later," he conceded. "But don't think I'm going to forget."

As if that would ever happen.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

When I'd walked in the place and saw that man walking toward Alex with his arms spread wide…well, let's just say that he's lucky we needed information from him or I might have just shot him on the spot.

And after the whole exchange, with her remembering him, and him telling her how great she looked…yeah, my curiosity was through the roof.

But I had to focus, so when she didn't immediately answer my question about who the man was to her, I quickly offered to table it.

For now.

But I was definitely coming back to it.

"WWB-0113," Ted said as he came back into the room. "But you know, you should just let it go for tonight. I don't know where she was going, but I do know that it was for the night. She and the little boy will be well-fed and have a warm bed to sleep in, and the car will be hidden away somewhere out of sight. I'm trusting that you want to find her for reasons other than dragging her back into a bad marriage, right?"

"Of course," Alex responded.

"Then start looking first thing in the morning. That car will be on the road. Like I said, I don't know from where or to where, but it'll be out there."

I felt a small amount of relief to know that Nate was going to be sleeping in a bed tonight. Granted, not _his_ bed, but it was better than thinking about him on the run all night.

I could sense that Alex had relaxed marginally, too.

"Okay," she said. "Thanks, Ted. I appreciate your help."

"Any time," he replied. "And I mean _any_ time. You ever need a good deal on a used car, or…" He paused and glanced sideways at me and then lowered his voice to her. "Or maybe you decide to ditch the husband and you need a good deal on a new one of _those_…I'm your guy."

"I'm pretty much set," she said. "With the car and the husband."

"I'm just saying…"

"Yeah, well quit saying it," I told him.

What was I supposed to do? Just stand here while he extended a joke to the point of being serious?

I don't think so.

So we left creepy Ted and made the walk back towards the subway station.

"So this is good, right?" Alex said. "We've got the car. We can run an APB on it, and hopefully in the morning, she'll be spotted and we can have her picked up."

"This is very good," I agreed. "We'll have her home by this time tomorrow. Then she and Steve can talk this thing out."

"You think they'll be getting back together?"

"Uh huh," I said. I put my arm around her shoulders as we continued to walk. "Now quit stalling. Who was that guy?"

She sighed and leaned her head against me.

"You really don't want to know."

"He's an old boyfriend, isn't he? You can tell me. You don't think I'm the type to get mad about a boyfriend twenty-five years after the fact, do you? I mean, I'm guessing that this was high school since he sort of recognized Cathy, too."

"Yeah, it was high school," she admitted reluctantly.

"And? How long did you date him?"

She didn't say anything for several minutes.

In fact, we made it all the way back to the Sheepshead Bay subway station without talking, and I was starting to worry that maybe I'd pushed too hard. I mean, I was curious. But I didn't want to bring up bad memories for her or make her talk about something that she didn't want to.

I stopped her before we went down the steps, and put my hand under her chin, tilting her face up towards mine. She had trouble making eye contact.

"I'm sorry," I said. "We can drop it. I didn't mean to push."

She finally turned her eyes to mine and it hit me. She wasn't upset. She was embarrassed.

"He wasn't just a boyfriend, was he?" I asked her. "Were you in love with him?"

"No!" she said quickly. "No, it's not that. It's…he was…God, Bobby, I cannot believe that I'm telling you this…"

"What?"

"He was my first."

And I have no idea why it hadn't occurred to me. Maybe it was the sight of him. Maybe it was because when I thought of Alex in high school, I was thinking child rather than almost-woman.

"Oh," I managed to say. "Huh."

"That's it?"

"I'm just…wow."

I'd often wondered who that special person in her life may have been, but it certainly wasn't something that I was going to ask about.

I'd thought that I would have feelings of jealousy.

I mean, not that it could've possibly been me, but hey…a guy always wants to be the one memorable sexual experience for his wife, right?

But I didn't feel anything but…bewilderment.

How in the world had that guy scored with Alex?

"Really?" I had to ask.

"You can laugh," she said as we started down the stairs.

"Why would I laugh?"

"Oh come on. You think I can't tell that you want to laugh? But I'm telling you, he didn't look like that in high school."

"Okay."

"Seriously."

"I believe you."

We slipped our metro cards through the turnstile and went out onto the platform to wait for the subway.

"No you don't," she said, but I could tell that she was starting to crack a smile. "But that's fine."

"Was he…any good?"

"Bobby! I can't believe you'd ask me that!"

But now she was laughing and so was I.

And maybe it was just a release of the intense stress of the day, I don't know. I didn't care. It just felt good to laugh.

So we stood on the platform, and I wrapped my arms around her and held on.

"Hey," she said quietly once she'd gotten herself under control.

"What?"

"Count to nine."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

So I did. And when I finished, I looked at her for clarification.

"That's how long it took," she told me. "So no, it wasn't good. The most memorable thing about it was how amazingly fast it was. I wasn't even sure we'd actually started and yet it was already over."

"Nine seconds?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, that just takes all of the pressure off me to be impressive then, doesn't it?"

"You feel pressure to be impressive?"

"Maybe," I said with a shrug. "No. I just…_want_ to be impressive. I want to be the best you've ever had."

"You are absolutely without a doubt the very best. In fact, if you were only half as good as you are, you'd _still _be the best."

And then to punctuate her statement, and very possibly to get thoughts of her and Ted out of my brain, she kissed me thoroughly until the train arrived.

We reversed our route, and when we came up top at Fulton Street, both of our phones began to buzz.

"I've got four missed calls," Alex said.

"Me, too. Let me check the voice mail."

But before I could dial it, my phone rang again.

"Goren," I answered.

"It's about damn time," Mike said. "Is Alex with you?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"We're at the morgue. I think you two need to get over here."

TBC...


	41. Chapter 41

**Logan POV**

* * *

The sight of Liz standing there, covered in blood, had really thrown me.

But not nearly as much as seeing her cry.

She'd held it together until Ross touched her and then it was like he'd flipped a switch.

Just thinking about the struggle that she must have gone through…it damn near broke my heart.

I couldn't watch.

I couldn't watch her fall apart as Ross held her and told her that everything was going to be okay.

So instead, I focused on the body.

But I still listened as she gave a brief description of what had happened.

_He'd held a knife to her throat._

That knife was on the floor, about five feet away from the body since I'd kicked it with my foot before Carolyn had checked his pulse.

Who was this bastard and why had he come after Liz?

Removing his ski mask had gotten us no closer to the truth. None of us had ever seen him before.

I checked his back pockets, but he had no wallet, no ID.

However, he did have a piece of folded up notebook paper.

I pulled it out and quickly scanned over the words before holding it out for Carolyn to see.

"What is it?" Ross asked.

"It's…um…it looks like maybe this was going to be a set up," Carolyn told him.

This was unbelievable.

And it told me that the attack definitely wasn't random.

"What kind of a set up? Is that a letter?"

"Uh huh," I said with a nod. "It looks kind of like a Dear John letter. It's from Liz. I think the killer was going to accidentally leave it behind."

"A Dear John letter?" Liz repeated. "Like, I was breaking up with Danny?"

"Exactly like that," Carolyn said. "Only not Danny."

"Let me see it," Liz directed.

"Go get cleaned up first," I told her. "We'll finish going over the body and see what we can come up with."

"He's right," Ross said. "Come on, Liz."

He led her into the bathroom, and then I turned to Carolyn.

"Call Bobby," she said.

So I did.

It went to voice mail, so I tried Alex.

"Help me hold him up," Carolyn told me as she tilted the man onto his side. I used one hand to keep him balanced in place while I continued to use my phone with the other hand.

"Condom," she remarked quietly as she searched through the front pockets of the dead man. "He definitely planned to…you know."

"Uh huh," I agreed, ignoring the sick feeling in my gut.

I dialed each of the Gorens again, but still had no luck.

"Fifty-three dollars," Carolyn stated. "And check it out."

I glanced over at her quickly as she pulled a cell phone from the man's front pocket.

"Nice," I replied. "Maybe now we can find out who he's working with."

She flipped open the phone and powered it on.

"No names," she remarked. "Just numbers."

"Where are they?" I muttered rhetorically as I dialed Bobby again.

"Goren," he finally answered.

"It's about damn time," I said, taking out my frustration on him. "Is Alex with you?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"We're at the morgue. I think you two need to get over here."

"What is it?" Bobby asked me.

"Holy Mary mother of God…"

I looked up to see Lupo and Bernard standing in the doorway.

"I'll tell you when you get here," I told Bobby as I hung up the phone.

"Is Liz okay?" Lupo asked in concern.

"I'm fine," she answered, coming out of the bathroom.

She was in fresh scrubs and she'd washed her face, but her hand was still a bloody mess.

She walked over to a cupboard and pulled out some supplies. Carolyn got up and went over to help her clean up the wound.

It didn't seem right.

Liz was the one who put _us_ back together.

And now someone had come here and hurt her…I was having a hard time getting past it.

I wanted to kill the guy despite the fact that I was currently propping up his dead body.

It wasn't enough to know that he was already dead.

I wanted to inflict _pain_ upon him.

I could only imagine that Ross was struggling with that urge himself.

"You don't look fine," Bernard said as Liz sat heavily in a chair and held out her hand to Carolyn. "What the hell happened in here?"

"You shouldn't be doing that," Lupo said with a nod toward me. "You moved the body."

"Barely," I said, and since I realized that there was no longer a need for me to hold him up, I slowly lowered him back to the prone position that he'd been in when we'd arrived.

"We're being careful," Carolyn told him. I glanced over at her and marveled at her strength as she gently and efficiently cleaned off Liz's wound and then began to bandage it up. "We're gloved."

"Yeah, but…you still shouldn't have touched anything. And you took off his mask?"

"She needed to see," I told him quietly. He nodded in understanding and then ran his hand over his face.

I wondered if this was messing with him as much as it was with me.

I mean, this was _Liz_.

And if there'd been any doubt in my mind as to the depth of my feelings for my growing family, then today had definitely cleared it up.

Because without a doubt, I loved Liz.

Seeing her shaky and hurt was tearing me up.

"Is this…I mean, does this have something to do with the whole other mess?" he asked me.

"It looks like it," I answered as I got to my feet. I held out the letter that I'd found in the guy's pocket.

"What the…"Bernard mumbled, glancing at it while he pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Read it out loud," Liz said. "I haven't seen it yet.

Bernard took the paper from my hand and read the letter aloud. When he finished, he looked over at Liz.

"So it's safe to say that you didn't write this?"

"No, I didn't," she answered quickly.

"And you're not…"

"No!" she said firmly, at the same time that Ross and I both yelled at him, "Hey!"

"I had to ask," he said apologetically. Then he looked at me pointedly and said, "You know that Logan."

And yeah, I did know that.

He had to ask, just like Bobby and I had been forced to question him and Lupo.

We were in the business of solving crimes, and holding back seemingly obvious questions was a big no-no, no matter how insulting they might be.

I gave him a nod and reminded myself that he wasn't the enemy.

The enemy was probably some guy on the other end of one of the numbers in the cell phone.

"So this is just supposed to make it look like…" Bernard stated, although he trailed off before saying the actual words.

I appreciated that he was trying to be respectful.

"That's our theory," Carolyn said. "We're thinking that this guy here was supposed to kill Liz and then leave behind the letter so that it would seem as if she'd been killed by her jilted lover."

"If this is a snow job, then having you guys handle the evidence is only going to make it worse," Lupo said. "That was my point. When whoever is behind this finds out that their plan didn't go as expected, then they'll still try to use it to their advantage. They'll try to say that Liz killed this guy and we covered it up."

"We're not covering up anything," I said. "We called you."

But I knew what he meant.

Considering that recent article which called our ethics into question, we had to make sure that this situation was handled by the book.

We couldn't allow there to be any impression of impropriety.

"So work it," Ross told them with a nod. "Just like any other case, okay?"

"Okay," Lupo said slowly. "Dr. Rodgers, we'll need to get your statement."

"I'm ready," she said, and I was glad to hear that she almost sounded like herself again.

Carolyn stepped back from her, having finished taking care of her hand, and so Liz got up from the chair.

"Do you want to go in your office?" he suggested.

"No. Right here is fine," she replied.

Her gaze was focused for a moment on the dead man on the floor, but then she pulled her eyes up and looked at me with determination.

"My system is still up and running. Take off his gloves and fingerprint him. See what AFIS has to say about him."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied with a grin.

_You can't keep a good woman down_.

My mother used to say that.

Every time another worthless piece of crap that she'd called _boyfriend_ would dump her or steal from her or _whatever_…she'd fix herself a drink, take a deep breath, and look me in the eyes.

Her expression was always slightly maniacal and I'd often wondered if _this_ would be the day that she went ballistic and killed me.

But she'd just look at me and say, _"You can't keep a good woman down. Remember that, Michael. So it won't do you any good to try_."

And then she'd pick up whatever was handy and use it on me in an effort to ease her frustrations from the latest disappointment.

"_Do you hear me?"_ she'd scream in between blows. _"You can't keep a good woman down!"_

And it was ridiculous, really, because she was by no definition of the phrase, a good woman.

But the phrase was fitting today, which I guess is why it popped into my head.

So Bernard and I went to work on the body while Lupo got Liz's story.

Carolyn stood with her, offering up moral support as well as undoubtedly memorizing and analyzing every detail.

Ross stood next to Liz, holding her good hand, as she told how her habit of knotting the string of her pants had ultimately allowed her to escape.

I wasn't sure if there was a story behind her compulsion to do that, but I did notice that Ross squeezed her hand a little bit tighter as she spoke of it.

Bernard and I were able to obtain a good print of the man's index finger, so he entered the image into the system and stood back to watch as the computer sifted through the millions of prints in the database.

While we were waiting, Alex and Bobby arrived.

They both looked flustered and concerned, and Alex had a hell of a bruise on her jaw.

I had no idea what had been going on with them, but whatever it was would have to wait.

"What happened?" Alex asked in alarm.

Liz was still telling her tale to Lupo, so I waved them over to me. I watched as each of them took notice of the now-congealing blood on the floor.

"This bastard attacked Liz," I said quietly, and then I filled them in on what had happened.

"Do we know why?" Alex asked.

"No, but we know what they want people to think," I said.

I picked up the bag that held the letter and I showed it to them, but before they could read it, Bernard spoke up.

"Peter Boyer," he said. "That's our guy."

"He has a sheet?" I asked.

"Looks like he did a stretch in Rikers," he said, reading from the computer screen.

"I've never heard of him," Liz said. "Have any of you?"

No one had.

"So if we don't know him, then why would he have a grudge against Goren?" Bernard asked.

"Me? Why are we saying me? What about Liz?"

"Well, both of you, but you were the one who was going to be left holding the bag," Lupo said.

"The letter," I reminded them, holding it up again.

It was still partially folded inside the plastic bag, but a portion of it, the _important_ part, could easily be read.

_**Bobby,**_

_**We were wrong to start this, so I'm going to do the right thing and end it now before anyone gets hurt. I think it was just the lure of the unknown that drew me to you, but I love Danny. And you love Alex. So let's quit pretending that what we had was anything more than what it was - sex. That's it. And even that wasn't any good any more, so I…**_

If we weren't all as closely knit as we are, the letter may have been more devastating.

As it was, it was almost funny.

And hopefully, one day soon, it _would_ be funny.

But for now, it was just a clue.

"First reaction," Lupo directed.

"A woman wrote it," Alex said. "The handwriting, the verbiage…"

"Definitely," Bobby agreed. "It certainly wasn't this guy. He's just the messenger."

"Right," Carolyn said. "He was going to leave it in a manner that made it look inadvertent."

"And that's why he tried to…do what he did," Liz said. "Because in the letter, I'm insulting your…ability, so the theory is that you'd be so enraged that you'd come here to confront me, show me that I was wrong, and then end up killing me in a fit of passion."

"So is the purpose for you to be dead?" Bernard posed to her. And then he turned to Bobby. "Or for you to be accused of it?"

"Good question," I said. Then I picked up the bag with the cell phone in it. "Why don't we see if someone on the other end has that answer?"

"He had a phone on him?" Alex asked.

"Uh huh," I replied. "No names in the contacts, but there were a few numbers."

"Check the recent call log," Bobby said as Bernard took the bag from my hand and pulled out the phone.

"Call the most popular number," Lupo told him.

Bernard looked at the log briefly and then said, "One number calls him often, but he never calls it."

"Ex-girlfriend or his partner in crime," I suggested.

Bernard dialed the phone and put it on speaker.

"You don't call me," a male voice said in annoyance. "I call _you_. Tomorrow. Ten o'clock."

"Definitely not an ex-girlfriend," I said quietly.

"No it isn't," Bernard said. "But I think I recognized that voice."

"You did?" Bobby asked in surprise. "Who is it?"

"Matt Harker."

"How in the hell does Harker tie into ol' Pete here?" I asked.

"Oh my God, how did we miss that?" Carolyn asked suddenly.

"Miss what?" Bernard asked.

"Pebo," Bobby explained with a nod toward the body. "Peter Boyer. He's Pebo."

TBC...


	42. Chapter 42

**Lupo POV**

* * *

We went to McNally's because Liz said that she needed a drink.

And really, we all did.

For different reasons maybe, but still…

We'd left Pebo's body in the hands of the other ME who had returned from the call-out. He was more than happy to handle the autopsy, although we did have to joke about the idea that the cause of death was fairly obvious, considering that the scalpel was still imbedded in the victim's neck.

And maybe jokes were inappropriate, but laughing was far preferable to crying, and Liz looked like she could use a few laughs in addition to the drinks.

We did, however, instruct the ME to fast-track any trace evidence recovered against the DNA on file for Brubaker in hopes of finding proof that Pebo had killed him.

I mean, we only had the word of two dead thugs that Pebo had done it, but why would they lie?

Especially considering that at the time they'd said it, they thought that Mike and Carolyn were part of the gang.

We'd also called Cutter down to the morgue to go over Liz's statement with her and have the incident officially declared as self-defense.

He'd been quick and efficient and it had been a good decision to call him because he would be considered an impartial third-party.

Which – as Logan so eloquently pointed out – would be better than using the consultants in Ross' pocket, or the two newest golden boys.

I guess that made me one of the golden boys, although I've never been referred as such in my entire life.

Black sheep, maybe.

Trouble-maker.

Instigator.

But never golden boy.

Ross had rolled his eyes at Logan's remark, but hadn't disputed it.

Once Cutter turned Liz loose, that was when she'd made her demand.

_Take me to McNally's and buy me a drink._

"Me?" Ross had asked her. "Of course."

"Not just you. All of you," she'd clarified. "I want one from each of you."

So Liz was planning to tie one on. I'd say that was a perfectly natural reaction for someone in her shoes.

Presently, she was working on drink number five, so she still had two freebies to go. I didn't see her having any trouble with that.

I hadn't been able to pick up the documents from my source yet.

He still lived at his parents' house, and he'd told me that they had strict rules.

No visitors after ten.

Period.

Which was kind of funny since I referred to him as my black ops shit guy. And yet he had a mother-imposed curfew.

But still…I had to respect it, and since it had been nearly ten o'clock by the time we finished up at the morgue, there was no way I could've made it to Secaucus in time to avoid the wrath of his mother.

It could wait until the morning.

Besides, it was fair to guess that Pebo was the enforcer in this little operation, and he was dead. A fact which likely wouldn't be known until Harker tried calling him tomorrow.

Bernard had Pebo's phone just in case any calls came in over night, but for now, we were in the middle of a much-needed brief respite in the case.

"So," I said to Alex after ordering Liz her sixth bourbon on the rocks. "Who hit you?"

I'd noticed the bruise right off when she and Bobby had first come into the morgue, but we had too much going on at the time to ask about it.

"Travis," she replied.

"What?" Mike asked. "What's going on with him?"

"Oh yeah, Connie told me that he'd violated the TRO already."

"Uh huh. It's…it's a really long story," she said. "But trust me, he looks much worse than I do."

"I have no doubt," I agreed. And I didn't. If Travis had landed a punch on Alex, then it was likely that he was currently breathing through a straw. "So Cathy's okay?"

"We're not exactly sure where she is right now," she admitted. "But we know what she's driving, so we got Sean to put out an APB. Hopefully, we'll be able to catch up to her tomorrow."

"Who is she running from?" Liz asked. "Travis? Surely he's back in jail by now."

"He is," Alex confirmed. "Um…there was a huge misunderstanding, and…well, Cathy took Nate."

"She kidnapped him?" Bernard asked.

"Like I said, it's just a misunderstanding, so put your cop nose away for a while."

"I hear you," he told her agreeably. "I'm just concerned."

"So are we," Bobby assured him. "And if we can't track her down tomorrow, then we may ask for help. But until then, we're trying to keep it low profile."

I listened idly as the conversation went around the table, but I was only half-focused, because Connie had just walked through the doors.

She glanced around the room briefly before her eyes settled on mine.

Our group wasn't hard to spot. There were eight of us, sprawled across two tables that we'd dragged together, and we were all rather loud.

Like I said, sometimes letting loose was the only way to shake the reality of the day.

She broke into a smile when she saw me and then quickly crossed the room to join us. I got up and grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and pulled it over next to mine.

"What did I miss?" she asked as she sat down.

"Sweetheart, you are way too sober for us to start filling you in just yet," Mike told her. "Have a couple of drinks and then we'll get started."

"Mike said something happened at the morgue tonight," she questioned after flagging down the waitress. And it threw me for a second that she'd said Mike, when we had one sitting at the table, but of course, that's what she called Cutter.

"He didn't tell you about it?" Liz asked her.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "What happened?"

So…Cutter knew how to be tight-lipped, even with someone whom he had to know would hear the story.

If he kept it up, I was really going to end up liking him.

Connie got her drink, and while she sipped on it, the rest of us caught her up on the incident.

"So Detective Harker is definitely involved," she concluded.

"It looks that way," Alex agreed. "Although here's what I don't get. If Harker wants revenge on Ross, and he used Hemmings and Pebo to help him get it, how does Bobby factor into it? I mean, why finger him as Liz's illicit affair when Harker doesn't even know him?"

"Better yet, why even make up that affair story at all?" Carolyn asked. "Wouldn't it have been much simpler to just stage a break-in and have it look like Liz was in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"It absolutely would've been simpler," Bobby agreed. "But we're still missing a piece of the puzzle."

"What's that?" Mike asked him.

"Who is C-Dog?"

I nodded as I thought about what everyone had said.

"Uh huh," I said, catching Bobby's eye. "C-Dog links to you somehow."

"Which means that there's probably more to come," Alex said. "Especially when they realize that this attempt was a failure."

"We need to run down all of those numbers," Carolyn said. "Harker's wasn't the only one in that phone."

"And we need to see about getting a warrant for Harker's phone records," Ross added. "What do you think, Counselor?"

"His number was programmed into a phone found on an attempted murderer? Yeah, I think I can get you his records," she agreed.

I watched Connie as she chatted with the others and I felt a wave of nervousness roll over me.

Suddenly, the two-ounce item in my pocket felt like it weighed ten pounds.

And yeah, it was still in my pocket.

It had been there for more than a week, even though I'd only decided for sure a few days ago.

Because what if I asked and then she said no?

Where would that leave us?

A decline, even under the best of circumstances, was sure to change the dynamic of the relationship.

The idea of her saying no was much more terrifying than I'd ever imagined.

And maybe that meant that asking was a good idea.

For me, at least.

Because I wanted it that much…wanted _her_ that much.

But dinner Saturday had been canceled, and then Sunday had been busy as well, and then today…it was hard to come up with a good time.

At least not a good time that was well-planned out, because with our lives, plans had trouble coming to fruition.

We were just each too busy, too unpredictable.

And that was okay. I mean, we both understood and worked with each other, making the best of the time that we had.

But like I said, plans were tough to make and even harder to stick with.

So that left me with…what?

Procrastinating until, the next thing I knew, six more months had gone by?

Or a year?

Or did I need to be spontaneous and just do it?

"Lupo?" Connie asked, squeezing my hand where it rested on my leg. I realized that someone must have asked me something because everyone was looking at me.

"Huh?"

"Hey, Golden Boy," Mike teased. "Are we that boring, or is it just that you can't hold your liquor?"

"I can drink you under the table any time, Logan," I replied with a grin.

"Oh, so we _are_ boring you," Carolyn said.

"I was just…thinking about this case," I lied. I forced my true focus out of my head, and instead switched back into work mode. "I wish I'd been able to get those documents from my guy tonight. They might help us piece this whole thing together."

"Yeah, but he said that no names were mentioned, right?" Bernard asked.

"That's true. No names. We'll have to figure out C-Dog on our own. I wonder who Pebo's cellie was at Rikers."

"Good question," Carolyn agreed. "And we need to look into the known associates of the mopes from Brubaker's apartment. They were afraid of C-Dog. They must have known him, and known what he might do to them."

"Can I get you guys another round?" the waitress asked, interrupting our brain storm.

"Yes," Liz answered firmly. "Drinks all around. And no more shop talk."

"Yes, ma'am," Bernard replied.

"Are you okay?" Connie whispered to me.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine."

She stared at me for a moment and then turned back toward the others.

She asked Alex about Cathy, so then the next several minutes was spent discussing the latest in that saga.

I wasn't sure how she and Bobby had gotten their information about the car, because it seemed to me as though there were a lot of holes in the recount of their day, but I wasn't going to push them on it.

They respected the fact that there were active officers and a member of the bar sitting at the table.

And I respected them enough to let them make their own choices about what to report and what to withhold.

"I'm sorry that I didn't get to you sooner about Travis," Connie apologized. "I was stuck in court all day, and the prosecutor who handled the bail hearing admitted to me that he'd screwed up. It's…I should've taken care of it myself."

"It's not your fault," Alex told her. "You're not our personal prosecutor. I don't know why judges like to give bail to abusers, but they do. I should've expected it."

"This latest arrest might not go much better, I'm afraid," Connie told her. "I hear that his lawyer is making a big stink about the condition he was in when he arrived at the precinct."

"They're going to cry for Travis?" Mike asked in disbelief.

"They had to take him to the hospital," Connie said with a shrug.

I watched Alex as she tried to hold back a smile. I felt like grinning myself.

"What exactly did you do to him?" I asked her.

"I just…defended myself," she replied vaguely. "He took a swing at me first."

"Did you take a picture of that?" Connie asked. "I'd like to show it to the judge before the lawyer gets a chance to tell his sob story."

Alex said that she hadn't, but she promised to go by the lab and have it properly documented before the arraignment.

As we finished our latest round, the conversation slowed and exhaustion took its toll.

"We're going to have to go," Alex said at last. "We need to get an early start in the morning."

"Good luck," I told her sincerely. "If you need help, you know who to call."

She and Bobby left, and then the rest of us agreed to meet at Ross' office first thing in the morning.

"I hope you're taking the day," Carolyn told Liz as we all walked out of the bar together. "Maybe stopping by the hospital to get that hand stitched up…"

"I will," Liz promised.

"Cap, we can handle this case if you want to take the day, too," Bernard said.

"I appreciate it, Detective, but I'll be there," he said firmly.

And I understood his motivation.

It was one thing to be attacked, both professionally and personally, in the press.

It was an entirely different thing to have your wife be the object of an actual physical attack as a means of revenge for some unknown slight.

So we said our goodbyes out on the sidewalk, but only Liz and Ross walked away.

"I don't know about you guys, but this thing has me really pissed off," Mike said once they'd gone.

"Uh huh," Carolyn agreed slowly. "It's one thing to come after one of us. We signed on for the risk. She didn't."

"I hear you," I agreed. "And we're going to find out who's behind it."

"Yeah, well, this C-Dog is going to be a dead dog when I'm finished with him."

"Keep your cool, Logan," Bernard said. "We'll get him."

His phone started to ring, so he pulled it out and looked at it.

"Kim," he told us. "I'll catch you guys in the morning."

He answered the phone as he turned and headed down the sidewalk.

"We're going, too," Carolyn said. "See you tomorrow."

The two of them went in the direction of the subway station, but I held onto Connie's hand and lingered behind.

We were going to get a cab, but I didn't want to yet.

Because I'd made up my mind that I had to do it now.

And I sure as hell wasn't going to do it in the back of a taxi.

But my brain kept shouting out the question, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep until I had her answer, good or bad.

_Please let it be good._

"Connie," I began hesitantly.

I noticed that she shivered, so I quickly took off my jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Now you're going to get cold," she argued lightly.

"I'll be fine," I said.

"That's right," she replied, grabbing onto the front of my shirt and pulling me close to her. "Because you're a rugged man's man."

"A man's man?"

"Uh huh," she answered as she put her lips to mine.

"I don't know about that. Bernard says I'm whipped."

"He said what?" she asked on a laugh.

"He did," I said. I chuckled a little, but my nerves were tearing me up on the inside.

_Say it! _

"Lupo, you have got me wrapped around your little finger," she whispered, still holding tightly to my shirt, her lips barely brushing against my ear.

"Really?"

"Really. You could snap your fingers, and I'd come running."

"You would?"

"I would, but you know what? You wouldn't ask me to. That's one thing that I love about you. We're in this together, and you'd never ask anything of me that you wouldn't be willing to give yourself."

This was it.

This was what I'd been waiting for.

It was the perfect moment.

I pulled back from her just a little, just enough so that I could cradle her face in my hands and look her in the eyes.

"Connie…I…I…"

"Lupo!"

It was Mike.

He and Carolyn were running towards us.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"What is it?" I asked them.

"I just got a call from our security company," Carolyn said.

"And?"

"Someone tripped our alarm at the office."

TBC...


	43. Chapter 43

**Alex POV**

* * *

"It's been a hell of a day, huh?" Bobby remarked as he unlocked our apartment door.

It felt like a lifetime ago that the two of us had gotten up and gone to work.

"Uh huh," I agreed. "Right now, I don't want to think about Cathy or Pebo or Harker…I just don't want to think about any of it."

"Okay," he said tiredly.

"I mean, can we just pretend for one night that our lives are absolutely perfect?"

"Our lives are perfect," he replied as he tossed his coat on the kitchen chair. "It's everyone else who's messed up."

I went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge.

"It is, isn't it? Crazy people who want revenge on us...family members who have to over-react instead of just sitting down and talking about things. I mean, God Bobby, why couldn't Cathy just sit Steve down and explain to him what had happened with Travis? Why did she have to freak out and grab Nate like that? What was she thinking?"

He approached me where I stood leaning against the counter and he took the bottle from my hands. I'd drained half of it, so he finished it off and tossed the empty bottle in the trash.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about it," he reminded me.

"Right. We're not."

"Good. Because I was thinking," he began as he put his hands on my shoulders and lowered his head so that he was at eye level with me. "That maybe I could give you…"

I could feel the heat from his hands through the fabric of my shirt, but I didn't think much of it as he trailed off his words and began unbuttoning my blouse.

"The best…" he continued, reaching his hands inside the open fabric to stroke across my bare skin. He leaned in closer and gently kissed my bruised jaw and then worked his way up to my ear before adding, "Nine seconds of your life."

I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up and out of me. I grabbed for his belt and I pulled him closer, and again I felt the heat radiating off of him.

"You've given me that a million times over. I was thinking more along the lines of me giving you something."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked me, his voice suddenly thick with desire.

"Let me show you," I said as I reached up to run my lips along his throat.

But then I realized that the elevated temperature of his skin was from more than just desire.

"Bobby," I said with concern as I put my hand across his forehead. "You're burning up."

"I'm a little…yeah, I think that maybe I've got a little bit of a fever," he admitted.

But he kept kissing me as though he was trying to distract me from that fact.

"A little bit?" I challenged. "It feels like over a hundred."

He sighed heavily and rested his face in the crook of my neck.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm not feeling all that great."

"Since when? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Just since this afternoon. And what was I supposed to do? Not help you look for Cathy just because I've got a fever? Did you think I'd come home and lay down in the bed?"

"No, but you could've taken something," I argued.

I was annoyed with his attempt at subterfuge and yet touched by his insistence on sticking by my side.

"What hurts?" I asked him.

"Everything," he confessed. "I…just ache all over."

"Go get in the bed," I told him. "I'll bring you some medicine."

"And you," he elaborated. "I just need you."

"I'll come in and lay down with you," I assured him.

I gave him a little shove to get him going in the right direction, and then I got another bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

He was run down.

There was no doubt about that.

And the man wouldn't quit as long as there was breath left in his body.

But damned if I was going to let him do this to himself. If he had to take a break tomorrow, and I had to go after Cathy by myself, then so be it. His health was more important.

I grabbed four Tylenol and carried that, along with a damp rag and the bottle of water, into the bedroom.

He was already undressed and under the covers.

Another sure sign that he wasn't well.

The light was off and the room was quiet, so I set the items on the nightstand and then slipped out of my clothes.

"Can you sit up and take these?" I asked him as I sat down on the edge of the bed. He'd been almost asleep already, but at the sound of my voice, he opened his eyes and attempted to focus on me. "Bobby?"

"Yeah, okay," he said. I held out my hand to him and helped him into a sitting position.

It was amazing how fast he'd gone down hill since we'd gotten home.

I guess the adrenaline of the day had kept him going, but in all honesty, I'd known when we were at McNally's that something was up.

He'd been uncharacteristically quiet. At the time, I'd just thought that he was hung up on a particular aspect of the case, but now I knew better.

He was definitely sick.

He dutifully swallowed the pills that I gave him and then laid back down on the pillow.

I took the cool, damp cloth and put it over his forehead and then went around to the other side of the bed and climbed in.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind. His whole body felt like a furnace.

"What can I do?" I asked him as I felt him shiver against me.

"Talk to me," he replied.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

He was quiet for a minute, and then he covered his hand over mine where it rested against his chest.

"Tell me about Ted," he said.

And okay, I'll admit it.

My first response was to balk.

He wanted to hear about Ted?

My first sexual experience?

The man was delirious.

But then I relaxed and reminded myself that this was Bobby.

He liked to analyze situations from every perspective and the more information he had, the better. Otherwise, he'd be filling in his own little details, and that would be much worse than the truth.

"Um…okay," I said at last. "He…um…he and I dated for a few months. But like Friday night kind of dating. He didn't go to my school, so it wasn't like I saw him every day. But we'd go out on Friday nights, and sometimes Saturdays."

"Where did he take you? No wait. That's not my first question."

"What's your first question?" I asked, fighting back a smirk at how he liked to prioritize his questions. As though I might cut him off after a certain number, so he wanted to make sure that he got the most important ones answered first.

"What made you say yes?" he asked me.

And his voice was quiet and slightly off, and I couldn't decide if it was because he didn't feel well or because thinking about the situation made him sad.

But I knew how to alleviate both possible ailments.

I reached up and flipped the cloth so that the cool side was once again against his forehead and then I began to rub his back.

"He asked," I said simply. "And at the time, that made him different."

"You didn't get a lot of offers?' he asked in surprise. "I find that hard to believe."

"Not really," I admitted. "And besides, he was an unknown. He went to another school, and it was kind of exciting to date someone who was a mystery to all of my other friends, you know?"

"The rebellious Alex Eames was shining through," he remarked.

"Yeah, I guess so. And it didn't hurt that he had a motorcycle."

"Oh, well why didn't you say so?" he asked on a chuckle. "That explains it all."

"It does, doesn't it?" I asked with a smile.

I continued to run my hands over his back, working his aching muscles.

"So…how long before you…"

"Bobby, you really want to know this?"

"I'm just…I don't know. I'm just curious. I want to know everything about you, so I can't really let myself censor whether it's good or bad, can I? If I want to know all of you, then…well, it has to be _all_ of you."

"A few months," I replied. "Although if it were up to him, it would've been on the first date."

"He pressured you?"

"Yeah, but not like you think. I mean, he brought it up a lot, but he didn't force it on me physically. He was a nice guy about it. At first, anyway."

"At first?" he asked, tensing up and ruining all of my hard work.

"Relax," I told him. I pressed my lips against his shoulder blade and then began to trail my fingers lightly over his skin. It still felt hot, and his breathing seemed slightly labored, but it could've been worse. "I don't mean like that. He just…well, afterwards, he broke up with me. And then he told his friends about it."

"I should've hit him when I had the chance," he muttered.

"For acting like a teenager?" I asked in amusement. "It was twenty-five years ago, you know."

"I know. But still…he should've respected you."

"Yes, he should have," I said. "But I'm over it. I was over it in about a week. Now what about you?"

"Me?" he asked, turning so over so that we were facing each other. His skin was flushed and his eyes were glassy.

"Yeah. Unless you're ready to go to sleep."

"No. No, it's okay. I got your first time story. I suppose it's only fair that you get mine."

He grabbed onto my hand, putting his fingers through mine, and then brought them up against his chest. He closed his eyes and ran his other hand down my side and over my hip.

"It was…I was…you know, it's not the same for guys."

And his reticence had me feeling guilty.

"Bobby, it's okay. You don't have to tell me."

"I just…I don't want you to look at me differently, or…I don't know. If I had it to do over again…"

"Hey," I said, taking my hand and stroking it along his cheek. "There are a hundred things that I could say that about. But we don't get to do it over again. It's just part of our past."

"I was thirteen," he said at last. I held back my surprise at his admission of how young he'd been, and instead just waited for him to continue. "Frank…he kind of…well, he sort of dared me to do it."

"He dared you?"

"He took me to this party. All of the girls were older, like him, and…this one thought that I was cute and so she said something to Frank, and he pulled me aside and handed me a condom and told me to have at it. I just kind of stood there for a minute, staring at him, and he said, _what are you, a pussy?_ And so of course, I said no, because I just thought that Frank was the best thing since sliced bread, and so then he said, _let me put it in terms that you can understand. If she wants it, it's your _moral obligation_ to give it to her._"

"So you did," I stated.

"I did."

"And she was…what? Seventeen?"

"Something like that. I don't know. I never saw her again after that."

He fell quiet again, and my heart broke for how short his childhood had been.

Between his father, and his mother, and Frank…how long had he truly been allowed to be a boy?

"But, I will tell you something," he said, and then he leaned in close and placed a lingering, scorching kiss against my cheek.

"What's that?"

"It lasted a hell of a lot longer than nine seconds."

TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

Why was it that the bad guys always had to be so thorough?

I mean, they weren't always smart, but they were ambitious.

And they liked to pull those one-two punches that kept us running in different directions.

I'd declined for the security company to send officers to the scene.

We were close and the alarm was silent.

Maybe we could get there in time to catch the person in the act.

Lupo had called Bernard as soon as I told him about the alarm, but we didn't wait for him.

Instead, the four of us ran the short distance to the office.

"Wait down here," Lupo told Connie when we got into the lobby. I cast a quick glance at her, curious to see how she would respond to his command.

"Okay. And if they come out this way, I'll be sure to trip them or something," she replied.

Lupo paused in the stairwell doorway, looking perplexed.

"Shit," he muttered. "Okay, come on. But stay behind us."

We went up the stairs as quickly and quietly as we could. What were the odds that the burglar would still be on the premises? I guess it depended on what they were looking for and how quickly they'd been able to find it.

"Which alarm was triggered?" Mike asked me as we approached the door.

"Fire escape."

And then I saw why he'd asked. The main door was slightly ajar. So it was likely that the perpetrator was gone.

"So either he was gone before we got here or he went down the elevator," Lupo stated.

"What kind of a burglar escapes via elevator?" Connie asked.

Not a very good one. Or a _very_ good one.

"How much time has passed since the alarm?" Lupo asked me.

I checked my watch.

"Seven minutes."

Mike took his foot and tapped the door open. The place was quiet and dark. I reached around and flipped the switch.

"Oh my God," I murmured.

From our spot in the doorway, we could see the living room and part of the kitchen.

Everything that was breakable was broken.

Glass was strewn across the floor, the kitchen cabinets were open and emptied, tables were overturned.

"This was just for effect," Mike remarked. "They weren't looking for anything.

"How can you tell?" Connie asked him.

Anger boiled up inside of me at the sight of the destruction.

This was our place of business.

We'd worked hard to make it nice and in less than seven minutes, someone had come in and done their best to decimate it.

"You don't break into an office and start in the kitchen," I answered quietly.

I stepped fully into the office and headed down the hall.

It was exactly as I'd expected.

The damage in the individual offices was considerably less.

Because in the hall was the alarm keypad. The light would've been flashing, so after the burglar entered through the window beside the fire escape, he or she had trashed the outer rooms.

Then, after coming down the hall, they would've realized that they'd tripped the alarm, so they made a quick, token effort to mess up the other rooms, and then got out.

But as mad as I was about the break-in, I managed to rein it in.

Because this had been a blitz attack.

Which meant that there was a good possibility that we would find some sort of evidence.

"Do you want me to call it in?" Lupo asked us.

I looked at Mike and he shook his head.

There was nothing they could do that we couldn't handle ourselves.

It wasn't like we didn't know who was behind it.

I mean, we didn't _specifically_ know, but still…we knew.

So the four of us split up and began looking carefully over the damage.

"Don't try to clean anything up yet," I told Connie as she headed into the living room. "Just look for anything that doesn't belong. A temper tantrum like this may have caused the guy to inadvertently leave behind evidence."

"Temper tantrum," she said thoughtfully. "What about Travis? Could it have been him?"

"You tell me. Is he still in jail?"

"He should be," she replied as she pulled out her phone. "But let me check."

It was possible that, if he was out, maybe he'd come here looking for Cathy or Alex. But I didn't think so. I couldn't picture him coming in from the fire escape. He would've just tried to kick in the door.

Still, it was good to rule him out, and after a quick phone conversation, Connie hung up and confirmed that he was still in jail.

"What in the hell happened in here?"

I looked up from my spot in the kitchen to see Bernard standing in the doorway.

"I'll give you three guesses," I replied sarcastically. "And the first two don't count."

"No sign of the doer?" he asked as he came into the office.

"No," I replied.

"Hey Carolyn!" Mike called out from Bobby's office. "Bring me a baggie."

"What did you find?" Bernard asked as he headed down the hall. I grabbed a baggie and hurried to where the others had all gathered in Bobby's office.

I noticed that the chair behind the desk was overturned. On the desk, Bobby had kept a photo of him and Alex, but that frame was now in several pieces on the floor.

But the files on the desk were still sitting there.

Yeah, I'd say that the anger was definitely personal.

And not necessarily just at Bobby, but certainly not at the business.

Mike was behind the desk on his hands and knees.

He had a pen in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, and he was using the items to attempt to scoop up something from the floor.

"It looks like," he was saying. "At least one of our burglars was a woman."

I squeezed in between Lupo and Bernard and held open the baggie. I watched as Mike slipped in the piece of evidence.

It was a broken fingernail.

"I'd bet that it caught on the fabric of the chair when she went to flip it over," Connie said. "She probably didn't even realize it at the time."

I trusted her to know. She had well-manicured and polished nails.

I held up the baggie to get a closer look.

"Interesting shade of polish." I said.

"Yes it is," Bernard said. "And I know who uses that color."

"Hemmings," Mike stated.

"Yep. I bet she and Harker were both here," Bernard replied. Then he looked over at Lupo. "Let's pay that doorman another visit and find out if he can tell us when Detective Harker left the building."

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

My head was a mess by the time I got Liz home.

She was fairly intoxicated, although not in a good way. Not like she'd been the night of the poker game.

Tonight, she'd completely turned inside of herself.

She hadn't said a word since we left McNally's, and to be honest, I didn't know how to draw her out.

I was having quite a bit of trouble myself, and the half a dozen glasses of Jack and Ginger that I'd had at the bar wasn't helping matters.

Neither was the persistent image in my mind of how I'd found Liz earlier that evening.

Bloody…stunned…disheveled…

I just couldn't shake it.

She'd nearly been killed.

Nearly been raped.

And why…because of me?

Or Bobby?

Why had they chosen him to be her fictitious lover?

And why, for heaven's sake, was _that_ part bothering me?

"I'm going to take a shower," she said quietly once I'd locked the door behind us.

But for some reason, the darkness of our home and the eerie quiet that went along with it had me slightly spooked.

Would someone come after Liz again, once they realized that their attempt had failed?

Did they _know_ yet that they'd failed?

"Just wait here for a minute," I told her.

I battled with myself, attempting to force my brain into sobriety as I pulled out my weapon.

I was violating a hard and fast rule of mine.

Never, _ever_ draw your weapon after you've been drinking.

But still, I had to do it.

I had to check the place out, or I'd never be able to sleep tonight.

"Danny," she argued. But then she stopped and just leaned against the door. She sighed heavily and then waved a hand at me and said, "Go ahead."

I carefully went through the house, checking each room thoroughly.

I looked in places that were obviously much too small to conceal a person, but I couldn't help it.

I was more than a little bit paranoid.

Once I finished, I did it again. A second pass. Just in case I'd missed something the first time around.

And then I thought about calling a unit to come and sit on the house.

But would that be an abuse of power?

A misappropriation of department resources?

"Danny," Liz said again, and this time her tone told me that she'd reached the end of her rope. "I'm going up to take a shower. Don't shoot me, okay?"

I closed my eyes and gave her a nod as I tucked my gun back into its holster.

We were off, Liz and I.

We were _so_ off and I wasn't sure how to fix it.

What was she feeling right now?

Did she blame me for what had happened?

Of course she did.

She _had_ to.

It was my fault.

Some asshole had declared open season on me, and in the process, had hurt my wife.

When I found the man responsible…

And I don't just mean Harker.

It was someone beyond him.

Someone with more clout, more contacts, and more balls than Harker.

I heard Liz turn on the shower, and the voice inside of me said _go to her_.

But for some reason, I didn't.

Instead, I fixed myself another drink and went into the living room.

I sat down on the couch, put my gun on my lap, and kept my eye on the door.

**

* * *

**

Liz POV

Danny was obviously scared that someone was going to come after me again, so I stood patiently while he checked out the house.

I didn't remind him that he was too drunk to be holding his gun.

He knew it.

But fear for my safety overrode his usual sense of weapon responsibility.

However, I had to call it quits when he made the second go-round.

For the love of God, did he honestly think someone would be hiding under the kitchen sink?

"Danny, I'm going up to take a shower. Don't shoot me, okay?" I said at last. I barely waited for his nod of affirmation before I went up the stairs.

I just wanted to take a shower and get in the bed.

My head hurt and my body ached and my hand was throbbing.

And I couldn't quit thinking about how much blood had come pumping out when I'd jabbed the scalpel into that man's neck.

And I couldn't keep from wondering what would've happened if I _hadn't_ been able to grab that scalpel in the first place.

He'd _cut_ the string on my pants.

He'd had his hands _inside_ the waistband, against my skin, trying to pull them off of me.

And yeah, he'd had on gloves.

And yeah, it had only lasted for a second before I'd stabbed him, but…in my head as I replayed it, I was mixing the facts.

I would swear that I could feel his bare hands on me.

And earlier as he'd lain on top of me, I could feel his erection pressed against my stomach.

Couldn't I?

Was that real, or was I imagining that it had been there?

I pulled off my clothes as I waited for the water to warm up and then I turned and looked at myself in the mirror.

I had a red line across my throat from where he'd pressed the knife against me.

Bruises were already forming along my collar bone…my hip bones…my thighs…our scuffle had been intense, and he'd been really big, and I still wasn't sure exactly how I'd managed to get away from him.

And the realization of what would've happened…it truly terrified me. No one had been around. No one would've heard me scream.

I could feel my heart beat quicken as I let my mind torture itself by imagining the scenario as it could've happened.

If he'd been smart enough to just cut the knot the first time instead of attempting to untie it…then I wouldn't have had a weapon, and he had me pinned to the floor, and I was completely at his mercy.

As I'd done earlier in the morgue, I once again began to cry.

And I hated it.

I was sick of crying and it didn't do any good anyway.

No amount of tears would change what had happened.

I just needed Danny.

I needed to know that _we_ were okay, and that he wasn't going to make himself crazy with guilt over what had happened.

Because so far, that's what was happening.

He was in his world and I was in mine.

And we were both torturing ourselves with what ifs.

I had no doubt that he was sitting downstairs, watching the door, and thinking about what type of revenge he would get on whomever ordered the attack.

I don't know how long I stood there, lost in my own head as the mirror in front of me became covered by the steam from the shower, but as I stood, I silently willed for him to come to me.

I needed his comfort, but I couldn't ask for it.

And then there he was. I could smell the Jack Daniels before he even entered the room. I could smell cigarette smoke, too.

When was the last time he'd smoked a cigarette? I had no idea. Years, probably.

But that gave me an indication as to his state of mind.

He was just as messed up as me.

But at least he was here.

And we could work on it together.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered as he pulled me into his embrace. "I promise. Everything is going to be okay."

TBC...


	45. Chapter 45

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby slept fitfully for most of the night.

I hardly slept at all.

I was worried about him, so I kept checking his forehead.

And then I'd get up to run the rag under fresh, cool water so that I could once again place it on his feverish skin.

And _then_ I'd wake him to make him take another dose of acetaminophen.

He would dutifully sit up and take the pills with a sip of water, but then without a word, he would immediately lie back down and drift back into his restless sleep.

That wasn't like him at all.

Normally, if he was awakened in the middle of the night, his brain was sharp. He would either be excessively chatty or exceptionally amorous, depending on the situation.

But all night, his breathing was heavy and his skin felt alternately scorching and then clammy.

I kept him covered up, even though he intermittently tried to fling off the blankets, and I wrapped myself around him to help stave off the chills.

And then finally around five, he broke into a sweat.

When that happened, I allowed myself to drift off to sleep, only to be awakened by the alarm at six.

I shut off the alarm and immediately reached for Bobby to feel his forehead.

But he wasn't there.

"Bobby?" I asked as my brain quickly shifted into gear. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, his voice coming from the bathroom. I heard him chuckle lightly, and then he added, "You did make me drink a lot of water last night."

I climbed out of the bed and stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

"So you're feeling better?"

His skin still looked flushed and his hair was sticking up everywhere from having dried after being sweaty.

"Yeah, I'm feeling better."

"I don't know. You still look a little peaked," I said as I ran my hand over the back of his neck. "And you're still a warm."

"It's just from being under the covers. I think the fever's gone."

"Why don't you lay back down for awhile?" I suggested. "There's not going to be much to do until we get the call from Sean. I mean, we can't just drive all over the city looking for the car."

"I'm not going back to bed."

"Don't be hard-headed," I argued. "Another couple of hours will do you some good."

"And what about you? How much sleep did you get last night?"

"That's not the point. I'm not the one who's sick."

"Neither am I," he insisted. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

"Bobby," I sighed in exasperation.

"We've got lots to do this morning while we wait for word on that APB," he said. "I don't have time to be sick right now. Besides, I really am feeling a lot better."

"Okay, here's the deal," I said, pulling away from him enough so that I could look at him. "I'm going to take a shower. When I get out, I'll find the thermometer and take your temperature. If it's less than a hundred, then I won't make you go back to bed."

And yeah, I was being bossy.

But I was _worried_, so that made it okay.

"You're going to take my temperature," he stated. I could tell that he was fighting a smirk, but he held it back admirably.

"I am," I said. I wasn't going to back down.

"I'm not sure anyone has ever done that before."

"Ever?"

"Not that I recall."

"Well, this will be a first then."

"Okay," he agreed, and then he reached down and kissed the end of my nose. "You take your shower. Then we can determine whether or not you're going to _make_ me go back to bed."

He let go of me and went back into the bedroom, so I reached into the shower and turned on the water.

He was humoring me, I could tell.

And it's not like I was really going to _make_ him do anything.

Besides, if the situation was reversed, and he'd said something like that to me, he'd have a fight on his hands.

But he was being a good sport.

And that fact alone told me that he was probably feeling a lot better.

He wasn't cranky and he wasn't just blindly following my instructions.

I stepped under the spray and began mentally planning out the day.

I hadn't been sugar-coating it with Bobby. There wasn't really anything we could do about Cathy at the moment.

Not until we got a hit off that APB.

I'd called Steve last night on our way home to give him an update.

He was half out of his mind with worry, but he'd settled down some with the news that we had a solid lead.

I'd promised to keep him in the loop, and he'd promised to stay at home by the phone.

I think that he was hoping she'd come home on her own, but I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen.

If she was afraid that he'd believed Travis' story, then she wasn't coming back.

She wouldn't want to have to look him in the eye again while knowing that he thought she'd committed such a grievous sin.

So our best course of action would be to go into the office and see what we could track down on the Harker/Hemmings case.

We needed to find C-Dog.

We needed to see what kind of evidence had been pulled from Pebo's body.

I also needed to check on Liz.

I wondered how she'd be faring this morning after the incident last night. I only prayed that Ross had stepped up and been supportive rather than keying on the fact that Bobby had been pegged as her lover.

Obviously, everyone knew that it wasn't true, but considering Ross' previous envy of Bobby, and how he'd thought for years that Bobby had slept with his second wife, Nancy…surely it had to bug him, more than a little, that the set-up involved Bobby.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even hear Bobby get into the shower.

Instead, I felt him.

He was behind me and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back until I was flush against him.

"I didn't want to wait," he said in a low gravelly voice. And then he released his hold on me so that he could instead run his hands over me.

"For what?" I asked, unable to keep the breathless quality from my voice.

"For you to see how hot I am."

Boy, was that a loaded statement.

"You're sick," I argued weakly. It was difficult to protest when everything that he was doing felt so good.

"I'm better," he insisted. "Let me show you."

He turned me around so that I was facing him, and then he moved one hand to the back of my head, shoving his fingers into my hair as he leaned down and kissed me.

It only took a moment before I completely forgot my reason for protesting in the first place.

The water was pounding down against my back, he had one hand gripping my backside, and he continued to kiss me as though he might never be afforded the opportunity again.

I was lost.

I reached down and ran my hand over the length of him, a few times leisurely and then I grasped him with more purpose.

And yeah, his skin was hot, but so was mine.

"Alex," he moaned as he tore his lips away from mine.

His breathing quickened as I increased the pressure and speed of my touch, and for a moment, he lowered his forehead against mine and just savored the feeling.

But then he reached for my hand to stop the motion.

"Not like this," he rasped out. "I need…"

He trailed off when I ran my hands up his chest then wrapped my arms around his neck.

I didn't need him to say what he wanted. I knew.

I held on as he moved his hands to my hips and then picked me up, backing me up against the shower wall.

I encircled my legs around his waist, and he immediately pushed into me.

His lips found mine again, this time with a sense of urgency that matched the frenetic pace he'd set.

Harder and harder he drove into me, relentlessly seeking that release that we both so desperately needed, until at last he pushed me over the edge.

I couldn't keep from shouting out his name, the sound echoing off of the shower walls.

And he was only a moment behind me, and was every bit as vocal.

I couldn't help but wonder idly how much our neighbors must love being awakened by our orgasmic shouts.

Honestly, I didn't really care.

"You are so good at that," I managed to say.

"So do I get a clean bill of health?"

"You did that just so that I wouldn't make you go back to bed?" I said on a laugh.

"I did that because I can't get enough of you," he said, his lips pressing against my throat as he said the words. "And thinking about our conversation last night…well, I just needed you."

Ah…I'd nearly forgotten about the first-time stories.

"I hope you don't feel like you have to compete."

"No," he replied as he slowly put me back on my feet. "No, I just…I don't know. The idea that someone treated you like that made me want to treat you better."

He was so sweet.

He'd been worried about me just because I'd been dumped while he'd only been thirteen years old and in a situation that boiled down to being pimped out by his brother.

I ran my hands through his wet hair and stood up on my toes to kiss him again.

"You said it yourself the other day," I reminded him. "No one in this world will ever treat me better than you. The past doesn't bother me. Not when I have you."

My response caused him to bring his lips back to mine, and we very nearly got caught up in the moment again, but reality won out.

Instead, we hurried to finish doing what we were _actually_ supposed to do in the shower.

We managed to get rinsed off just before the water turned cold.

"So?" he asked me as he handed me a towel.

I didn't have to ask what he meant.

"Anyone who can come through with a performance like that must be feeling pretty good," I told him with a grin.

"You liked that, huh?" he asked, and his answering smile lit up his whole face.

I was reminded again how he'd had to grow up much too fast. Hints of that little boy kept wanting to break through.

"You could say that," I replied. "Now get your ass in gear, Goren, or we'll be late for work."

Although, as it turned out, we didn't make it that far.

We got dressed, grabbed some coffee to take with us, and as we were locking up the apartment, my cell phone rang.

"It's Sean," I told Bobby excitedly.

Did we have a hit already? It was barely seven o'clock.

"Yeah, Sean," I answered.

"We found the car," Sean said carefully.

I stopped Bobby by putting a hand on his arm, and I met his gaze. Because something was definitely wrong.

Sean hadn't said that they'd _spotted_ the car.

He said they'd _found_ it.

And his tone of voice filled me with dread.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"An abandoned parking lot in Red Hook," he told me. "Alex. It doesn't look good."

"Why?" I asked sharply. "What is it?"

Bobby grabbed onto my hand and held it tightly, no doubt having heard the alarm in my voice.

"It's been stripped. It looks like maybe she was carjacked or something."

"And?"

Because I just knew there was more.

"There's blood on the seats."

My heart sank and for a second I was afraid that I was going to be sick.

But I didn't have time for that.

Instead, I searched desperately for my inner-cop.

And after a long moment, I found it.

I held Bobby's gaze and gave him a slow nod.

"Don't let anyone touch that car," I said firmly to Sean. "We'll be there as fast as we can."

TBC...


	46. Chapter 46

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I'm not sure where I'd summoned up the strength for our shower love-making session because I really still felt pretty crappy.

But it's no hardship making love to Alex, so I used every bit of my reserve energy to make her feel good.

Of course, I'd felt pretty good in the process.

And it had convinced her that I didn't need to be left behind.

But about ten minutes after getting out of the shower, I felt zapped.

So much so, in fact, that as we headed for the door, I was really close to admitting to her that I was still sick.

I would go climb back into the bed on the promise that she'd call me when she heard from Sean.

But before I could make up my mind whether or not to say anything, we _did_ hear from Sean.

I ignored the tired, achy feeling in my joints as I looked at Alex's face. I held her hand as she struggled to maintain her composure while he gave her what was obviously disturbing news.

"And?" she asked him as she settled her gaze onto mine. She gave me a nod, and added, "Don't let anyone touch that car. We'll be there as fast as we can."

"Tell me," I said as we locked up the door and hurried to the elevator.

"They found the car in Red Hook. It's been stripped. And there's blood on the seats."

"What?" I asked in confusion as I pushed the button. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I know," she agreed.

"I mean, it really doesn't make any sense," I insisted. "Red Hook isn't that far from Sheepshead Bay. We'd missed her by hours. Ted said that she'd already be wherever she was going to be for the night."

"Right."

"And Sean put out the APB last night. If it was there out there then, the cops would've found it sooner."

"Uh huh," she said thoughtfully.

I knew that her mind was off and running with this, just like mine, and hopefully hers was working at full capacity whereas mine was iffy.

"So we're supposed to think that it happened this morning? She was carjacked, injured, and the car was stripped and abandoned, all before seven o'clock?"

The elevator door opened and we went into the lobby where we ran into Mike and Carolyn.

"Hey, we were just coming up to see you guys," Mike said.

Carolyn held a cardboard carrier filled with cups of coffee and Mike had a bag from the bakery down the street.

"We're on our way out," Alex said. "I'm sorry, but they found Cathy's car."

She quickly filled them in on what we knew about that while my mind still pondered the facts.

There weren't a lot of jackers who liked to work the early-morning shift.

Three a.m. maybe.

Not five or six.

And how early must Cathy have gotten up to get started for all of that to have happened by now?

What was the rush when she was so well-hidden?

And then something else hit me.

When was the last time that Mike and Carolyn met us in our lobby with breakfast?

"What's wrong?" I asked them as Alex finished her story.

"Um…you know what? Nothing we can't handle," Mike said as he gave Carolyn a look.

"More bad news," Alex said knowingly. "Tell us."

"No, do your thing. Find Cathy. We'll work this end."

The four of us stood in the lobby for a moment, just looking at each other. I desperately wished that we could move the party outside because my skin felt like it was on fire and I thought that the cool air would help a lot.

"Okay," Alex said at last. "I'll check in with you after we know something."

We all turned to leave, but then Carolyn hesitated.

"Bobby, are you okay?" she asked me suddenly.

Alex whipped around to look at me, but I ducked my head and quickly headed for the door.

"I'm fine," I said dismissively over my shoulder.

I felt bad for ditching Mike and Carolyn, but I really, _really_ needed to be outside and away from prying eyes.

I stepped through the doors and hurried down the sidewalk until I was about a block away from our building. Then I stopped, already out of breath, and took a moment to appreciate the feel of the crisp air on my face.

Of course, Alex was right behind me. I'd had no doubt that she'd follow, and I certainly had no intention of trying to leave her behind.

And the fact that she was simply following rather than calling out to me and asking where I was going in such a hurry told me that I was busted.

It would've been nearly impossible to pull one over on her anyway.

I felt her hand on my back, and I let out a heavy sigh.

"Don't say it," I said tiredly. "Yes, I am sick. And no, I'm not going back upstairs."

"Okay," she said after a minute.

"Okay? You're not going to argue with me about it?"

I turned around to look at her, surprised that she was letting me off so easily.

"You're a big boy. And if it were me, I wouldn't go back inside either," she admitted. Then she reached out and buttoned up my coat and added, "And I need you."

I stood still and let her fuss over me. She tightened my scarf and then pulled a hat from my pocket which she put on my head.

"Better?" she asked me. I nodded, suddenly struck emotional at the tenderness with which she handled the task. Then she reached in her own pocket and pulled out a handful of pills. She plucked four from her palm and gave them to me.

"You knew before we even left the apartment, didn't you?" I asked her, since she didn't traditionally carry Tylenol with her in her pocket.

"I had a feeling. Not even Batman can recover as quickly as you seemed to," she said with a wry smile.

I dry swallowed the pills and then she put her chilly hands on my flaming cheeks. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cool sensation.

We stood like that for a moment and then she slid one hand around to the back of my neck.

"Your neck isn't hot," she said.

"That's because you bundled me up."

"No," she replied gently. "You've got a sinus infection. Wait here for a minute."

She slipped inside of the bodega that was half a block away and then came back with more pills and a bottle of water.

"Take this," she said after opening the pack of medicine.

"Are you trying to drug me up so that you can have your way with me?"

"Just take it," she said with a smile. "It'll help. And if it doesn't, we'll get you an antibiotic."

"Okay," I agreed. I downed the medicine and most of the bottle of water and then gave her a nod.

"Good. Now, let's go find Cathy, and then you're in bed for at least twenty-four hours. Deal?"

"Are you in the bed with me?"

"We'll see," she replied. Then she grabbed my hand and we headed for the parking garage. "Now, I've been thinking about this car being found in Red Hook. And I've got a theory."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

Carolyn and I had planned to soften the blow about the break-in.

Bobby and Alex were dealing with enough at the moment with the Cathy situation.

But obviously we had to tell them, so we'd stopped off for the to-go breakfast and then walked to their place.

I knew they would be up early, but I hadn't expected to run into them in the lobby.

And it didn't sound good, this thing with Cathy.

An abandoned car in Red Hook rarely led to a positive outcome.

But Alex was holding it together and Bobby…well, honestly he looked like hell.

Carolyn tried to ask him about it, but he'd bolted for the door.

I didn't let it bother me that they'd left us standing in their lobby.

Like I said, they had enough going on.

And at least now we'd attempted to tell them our news and they'd given us the leeway to delay it.

So there wouldn't be any hard feelings later on.

"Now what?" Carolyn said to me.

"Now we go to the lab and see what they got off of Pebo's gloves. And then we meet up with Lupo when he gets back from Secaucus. And we get the records from Harker's phone to see who else he's been calling."

"Yeah, I know," she said quietly.

And I knew what she meant.

It would be nice if we could've helped out Bobby and Alex.

But we couldn't afford to pool our resources at the moment. There was just too much going on, and after the attempt on Liz's life last night, we didn't have time to mess around.

We needed to get to the bottom of this.

Our search of the office last night had netted us a few leads.

First off, we'd found the fingernail and Bernard swore that the color matched up to Hemmings.

Secondly, the attempt was obviously personal. In all four offices, the personal effects were trashed, but the files were ignored.

Third, we'd been able to pull quite a few prints from in and around the office. I was hopeful about the ones on the fire escape, because really, who went out on the fire escape?

Harker's prints would be on file with the department, and Hemmings' should be the ones from the spare bed at Harker's place in Chevy Chase, so if we could match those up, then we'd have irrefutable evidence that they were involved.

Hell, we already _had_ irrefutable evidence.

Pebo had been in contact with Harker.

Or vice versa, but still…what possible reason could an OCCB detective have for being in touch with a recently-paroled felon?

And that brought me to our fourth lead.

Harker was supposedly going to call Pebo this morning at ten. I wasn't sure how Bernard intended to handle that call yet, but it was going to be interesting to see how it went down.

With Harker's superior attitude, it was very possible that he would just bark orders without even realizing that it wasn't Pebo on the phone.

Which would be great for us if that's how it played out, but still…that possibility also bugged me.

Because since when did Harker get too big for his britches?

He was an MCS wash-out.

So how did he manage to get a felon to do his bidding, not to mention the two goons that Carolyn and I had killed in Brubaker's apartment?

He wasn't the mastermind of this, but he was close enough to the top dog to be respected by the other players.

Or, close enough to _C-Dog_, I should say.

So maybe we needed to look through Harker's personnel file for clues.

Who had he run across during his less-than-illustrious career that may now be helping him get payback?

And why would the mysterious C-Dog be helping Harker unless he was looking for revenge of his own?

He had to be.

That's where Bobby factored into it.

It couldn't be a coincidence that they wanted to set him up as Liz's lover.

Not when he'd already been accused of sleeping with Ross' second wife.

It was too similar. And it was too likely to tear Ross up.

Or at least, it would've been if we hadn't already cleared up that misconception.

If we hadn't all become good friends.

Our enemy must not know about that.

He must not realize that now Ross and Bobby respected and liked each other.

Carolyn and I left the Gorens' apartment building and headed for 1PP.

"What are you thinking?" she asked me.

"I've got a few ideas," I replied quietly. "I really want to see Harker's file."

"Why? What do you think you'll find?"

"How did he get the job in New York?" I posed. "When was the last time you saw someone from outside of the department move straight into MCS? You know as well as I do that would be a tough sell."

"True," she agreed. "You think someone planted him there?"

"Maybe."

"Like who?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "The commissioner?"

"What? No."

"Are you sure?" I asked, although I wasn't really sure either.

"Well, no," she said carefully. "But he's been standing behind Ross."

"Which makes for a good cover, right?" I suggested.

"It's possible," she agreed. "But why?"

"Sweetheart, I have no idea."

"Okay," she said, nodding thoughtfully. "Well, let's pull Harker's file and see what we can find."

TBC...


	47. Chapter 47

**Lupo POV**

* * *

First thing Tuesday morning, I met up with Bernard and we headed for Secaucus.

I needed to get the documents from my black ops shit guy.

And I needed to find out what the hell his name was.

"You look like hell, Lupes," Bernard said when he got into the car.

"Thanks," I replied in annoyance.

And yeah, I was irritated, but maybe not so much with him.

I was more disgusted with myself.

After last night's aborted attempt at a proposal, I hadn't managed to get back around to it.

And it's not that I didn't have an opportunity.

It's just that I'm a big fucking chicken.

We'd gotten home from the Logans' and Gorens' office at shortly after one.

We were both wired from the adrenaline of the evening, so we'd taken Otto for a long walk.

But did I ask her anything?

Nope.

Instead we talked about work.

She provided an excellent sounding board for my theories of what was happening with the Harker case, and then she ran through her opening argument that she'd be giving in court today.

Then we'd gone back to the apartment, locked Otto up in the bedroom, and proceeded to use each other's bodies in the same way that we'd used each other's minds.

And the whole time I was thinking, _just fucking ask her_!

Because we're perfect for each other.

Anyone can see that.

If you take away the fact that she's way too beautiful and smart and sophisticated to be with someone like me.

Which was probably why I kept chickening out.

Because I was scared to death that the finality of making a lifetime commitment would open her eyes to the reality of the situation.

"Lupes?" Bernard asked carefully.

I realized then that I was almost to the Lincoln Tunnel and I hadn't said another word to him.

I really had to pull my head out of my ass. I had a job to do and I couldn't let my love life get in the way.

There were lives at stake and I couldn't run the risk of slipping up or missing a clue because I was berating myself for even considering the possibility that Connie would want to spend the rest of her life with me.

And shit, I was doing it again.

"I'm fine," I answered.

"Are you sure? Because you're gripping that steering wheel pretty tight."

I looked down at my hands and saw that my knuckles were white. I forced myself to relax.

"Yeah, I'm sure. So did you catch back up with Kim last night?"

"No. I told her the truth about my job and she called it quits."

"Hey, man, I'm sorry. It's my fault you got into that lie."

"No," he said on a chuckle. "She wasn't mad that I'd lied. She just wanted to meet the lead actor from that show and once she found out I couldn't help her with that, she was done."

"I think I'm going to ask Connie to marry me," I blurted out.

And as soon as I said the words, I wished that I could take them back.

Because surely Bernard would make some kind of joke about it and I wasn't sure I could deal with it.

"You _think_? Man, if you're not sure, then maybe you shouldn't," he replied seriously.

I glanced at him quickly, surprised by his gravity.

"No, I mean, _I'm_ sure. I'm just…not sure what she'll say."

"Oh. Well, there's only one way to find that out, right?"

"Yeah. I guess."

We rode in silence for a few miles, through the tunnel and into New Jersey.

"She's good for you, Lupes," he said at last.

"Yeah, I know," I agreed with a smile.

"So did you buy a ring? You know, you've got to do it up right and have the bling to go with the proposal."

"I've got a ring," I told him.

"You do?" he asked in surprise. "You really are serious about it."

"It was my grandmother's," I told him. "She and my grandfather were married for fifty-three years before she died, so I'm hoping it might bring us some good luck. I've been carrying it in my pocket for a week now, just waiting for the right time."

I turned off the main road and into the neighborhood of my source. Traffic was light at this time of morning, so the trip hadn't taken nearly as long as I'd expected.

I hoped that his mother didn't have rules about how early a person could drop by. It was just past seven.

I parked in front of the house and cut off the engine.

"Want me to wait?"

"No. It'll be good for him to know both of us. Come on."

We got out of the car and went up the front sidewalk.

I rang the bell, and as we stood waiting for someone to answer the door, Bernard said, "Don't wait for the right time. _Make_ the right time. You feelin' me, Lupes?"

I didn't reply, but instead just gave him a nod.

I was touched that he'd taken my situation seriously, and his words served to boost my confidence a little bit.

He hadn't laughed. He didn't think that the idea of her accepting would be outrageously funny.

"What do you want?" the woman who answered the door barked at us.

"Um…we're here to see your…son," I managed to say. I was doing my best not to smirk at the sight of the woman in her bathrobe, with her hair up in big, pink curlers.

"You cops? What did he do now?"

"Oh, he didn't do anything. We're just friends," I assured her.

"Friends," she repeated disbelievingly. "Uh huh."

She stared at us for another long minute and then she stepped back from the door and turned inside to yell, "Norman! Your _friends_ are here!"

She shuffled away from the door and continued muttering, "Friends. What kind of friends show up unannounced at seven o'clock in the morning? And since when does he have friends like that?"

My guy showed up a minute later, dressed in Star Wars sleep pants and a matching t-shirt.

I silently willed Bernard not to laugh.

"Lupo!" he said enthusiastically. "Come on down. I've got your stuff. Hey, who's this?"

"This is my partner, Detective Bernard."

"And he's….cool?" he asked me, giving me a meaningful stare.

"Yeah. He's cool."

"Okay, come on."

We went down into his basement lair.

"So…Norman," I began.

"Oh, dude, come on! Shit, don't be calling me that!"

"It's your name, isn't it?" Bernard asked with a smirk.

And really, it was pretty funny. I'd been referring to him as my black ops shit guy and here he was in Star Wars pajamas. And his name was Norman.

"Dude, can I pick something else? You know, like a code name or something? Wouldn't that be a good idea anyway?"

"Sure, pick another name," I agreed. "Do you have the printouts?"

"Yeah, dude, shit. Hang on. I need a name. Okay, Maverick. No wait, Iceman. No…No….I got it. Cougar."

"You've got a thing for Top Gun, huh?" I asked him.

"Yeah, you're right. Shit. Too much, huh? Okay. Okay, I got it. Rambo," he said. And then he furrowed his brow and lowered his voice and added, "I'm coming to get _you_."

Bernard burst out laughing at his impersonation of Stallone, and then looked at me.

"Are you sure this guy can crack code?" he asked me.

"Don't say that!" I said quickly. "You'll get him started."

But he'd already started.

"Really, dude? Are you shittin' me? _Crack_ code? I do _not_ crack code, man. Shit! What the hell is wrong with you guys?"

"Norman, settle down," I said.

"And don't call me Norman!"

I held up my hands in supplication and decided that I needed to humor him if we ever wanted to get our hands on the documents.

"How about Luke Skywalker?" I suggested.

"Nah, dude…shit. What, because of this?" he asked, gesturing at his outfit. "Nah, man, my mom bought me this shit."

"We're kind of on a tight time table here, man," I said at last after he mumbled through half a dozen more ideas for a name. "Can you think about it and let me know the next time we talk?"

"Mulder!" he shouted. "That's it. You can call me Mulder."

"An X-Files fan, huh?" Bernard asked. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey dude, that show was the bomb and not all of the ideas on there were fiction, you know what I'm saying? Some of the shit was for real. Did you see the one where Mulder kept reliving the same day, and he kept doing things just a little bit different to keep from having the bank blown up but every time he changed something, then something even worse happened? I mean, shit, it was déjà vu. Haven't you ever had the feeling that you're living an experience over and over?"

"Yes," Bernard and I answered simultaneously.

"That's what I'm talking about, dude, shit! Sometimes you get a do-over so that you can make different choices until you manage to get it right."

I shook my head and looked at Bernard, who was staring open-mouthed at Norman.

Mulder.

Whatever.

"Okay, great," I agreed. "So…Mulder. Did you get our printouts?"

"Yeah, dude. Shit. Here."

He handed me a sizeable stack of papers, much more than I was expecting.

"You got all of this from the data stick?"

"Yeah, dude, what did you think? I was just gonna make shit up? It's all on there. This dead dude was seriously into documenting everything. He just didn't like names."

"Okay. Thanks. I owe you."

"Yeah? Like, owe me enough to get me out of a speeding ticket or some shit like that?"

"Are you even old enough to drive?" Bernard asked him.

"Yeah, dude, shit! How old do you think I am? Shit yeah, I drive. Damn, man."

"Okay. Sorry," Bernard said quickly. Then he pulled out one of his business cards and handed it to him. "Here. You get a ticket in Manhattan, and you give me a call, okay?"

"Dude! You're the man!"

We left Mulder's house and headed back into the city. Bernard flipped through the documentation while I drove.

"We can stop by the courthouse before we go to 1PP," Bernard said.

"What? No."

"Why not? You need to get it off your chest, Lupes."

"I will. But she's prepping for trial. It can wait until tonight."

"Tonight," he repeated. "So you're gonna ask her tonight."

"Yeah," I assured him. Then as my stomach clenched with nervousness at the mere thought, I added, "Maybe."

"Hey, listen to this," he said as something in the papers caught his eye. "Brubaker was documenting a conversation."

He read aloud from the papers:

_**She says: Why can't we just kill him?**_

_**He says: Because then he wouldn't be around to feel the pain.**_

_**She says: That's pretty twisted don't you think?**_

_**He says: What fun is it to do it if they don't even know what's happening? This way will be much better, and then we can take care of the rest of the plan too.**_

_**She says: Yeah, and why are we even doing that?**_

_**He says: Because he'd want me to.**_

_**She says: It's a big risk. It's more than just fucking over one man.**_

_**He says: Yeah. It's fucking over two men. So what?**_

_**She says: It's not that simple. Besides, what has he ever done for you?**_

_**He says: It doesn't matter. I owe him.**_

_**She says: For what?**_

_**He says: Everything.**_

"That's the only conversation that he documented verbatim," Bernard said when he finished.

"Well, it's easy enough to fill in some of the blanks, right? Assuming this is Hemmings and Harker, Hemmings wanted to kill Ross. Harker wanted to kill Liz instead so that Ross suffered more. And by setting it up the way they did, they pulled Bobby into it."

"It would've killed them to include names?" Bernard mumbled. "I mean, we kind of already figured the _what_. We need the _why_ and the _who else_."

"We need to rake Harker over the coals. Maybe if we haul him in and read from this script we can convince him that we know more than we do. We can get him to admit to something useful."

"I'm game," he agreed. "But let's wait until after ten o'clock. I'm curious to see what he's going to do with this phone call."

TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

**Alex POV**

* * *

I stayed quiet while I drove us to Red Hook because Bobby took a nap.

A sure sign that he truly felt bad because I couldn't remember another time when he'd fallen asleep in the car.

Especially not when we were in the middle of a case, a case that involved my sister and nephew, and at a time when we thought they might be in grave danger.

Except that was the thing.

I didn't think that they were in grave danger, and clearly he didn't either.

My phone rang when I was almost to the parking lot and I answered it quickly without looking so as not to let it wake Bobby.

"Goren."

"Alex?"

"Dad?"

"Yeah, you…um…you threw me answering your phone like that."

"With my name? That's how I always answer it."

"Yeah. I guess…I guess I'm still thinking Eames."

I felt a flash of annoyance, but since he didn't say it with any real heat, I decided to let it go.

"What's up, Dad?"

"What's going on with you and Sean?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Alex. Don't lie to me. I still have friends in the department. Word has it that Sean got approval to put out an APB for a vehicle that wasn't involved in anything he was officially working on. He said it was for something that _you _were working on, and since your business seems to be in bed with the department…"

I turned the corner and saw several black and whites in the middle of the parking lot. Crime scene tape spanned the perimeter surrounding the black Mazda.

I really needed to get my dad off of the phone.

"Was there a question in there somewhere?"

"Why did you ask Sean to help you when you've got Ross wrapped around your little finger?"

"Because Ross has his hands full right now."

"More of that IAB inquiry?"

"Something like that."

"So what you're doing…it involves Cathy, doesn't it? I haven't heard from her since Sunday."

"Dad, I really have to go."

"Is your sister in trouble? Because I can help. But I can't do anything if you kids keep me in the dark."

"We've got it under control."

"Alex…"

"Dad, I need to go. I'll call you tonight."

"And you'll tell me everything."

"Yes," I nearly shouted. The man was relentless. I parked the car and glanced at Bobby, who was waking up either from my voice or from the lack of motion of the car.

"Okay, sweetheart. Be careful."

And just like that, he endeared himself to me again. The man was annoying and obstinate and rude, but he was also sweet and there was no denying the fact that he loved me.

"I will. I promise."

I hung up and then ran my hand along the side of Bobby's face. It was slightly cooler than it had been before, so I hoped that my diagnosis was correct and that the medicine was working.

"Your dad?" he asked me as he sat up straight in the seat and attempted to clear the cob webs.

"Yeah. He caught wind of the APB and wanted to know why me and Sean were working together."

"He's not stupid."

"No. He's not. But if I tell him what Cathy's done…"

"You're trying to protect her," he stated.

"I am. She's made enough mistakes that Dad won't easily forget. If he hears about this one, then she'll never hear the end of it."

"You're a good big sister," he told me as he smiled at me.

"I'm sure Cathy would argue with you on that."

"Cathy would argue with me on just about everything. But it wouldn't make it any less true."

"Come on. Let's go take a look."

Sean was already on-scene, so we were quickly allowed access to the vehicle.

I went to the driver's side while Bobby circled around to the passenger side and together we looked over the car.

After a few minutes, I caught his eye and we silently agreed.

It was just as we thought.

And I felt a sense of relief because after my initial panic, after I'd taken a moment to analyze Sean's news, it occurred to me that things were not as they seemed.

It just wasn't plausible.

So I'd maintained a level head until I could examine the scene for myself.

I'd been much more casual than I would've been otherwise.

Because, I mean, this was my sister.

If I'd been wrong…if I truly thought that Cathy had been carjacked with little Nate in the car…I didn't even want to think about that.

But I was pretty sure that wasn't what had happened.

Which meant that now I was really pissed off.

"What do you think, Alex?" Sean asked me when I stepped back.

"It's been staged," I said. Bobby came back around the car and nodded his head.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "The blood has been smeared onto the seat for affect."

"Are you sure?"

"Look," I said, pointing onto the driver's seat. "It's directly on the seat. If she was sitting in the seat, and someone had hurt her, the blood would be on the passenger seat, or the console, not directly beneath her."

"And it's not enough," Bobby added. "There's no spattering or droplets. It's just a thin covering."

"Take a sample," I told Sean. "My money says it's not even human blood."

"So now what?"

"I'll call you. We have another stop to make."

"And you might want to avoid any phone calls from your dad," Bobby told him.

We left Sean and went back to the car.

I tried to ease my temper as I drove from Red Hook to Sheepshead Bay, but then I decided against it.

If I was right, and I was pretty sure that I was, then he deserved my full wrath.

"Don't kill him," Bobby said when the car screeched to a stop outside of the used car lot.

"Didn't you tell me last night that you wanted to hit him?" I reminded him as we walked up to the office.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "And I didn't say don't hit him. I just said don't kill him."

"Alex!" Ted called out when we entered the building.

I noticed that he'd been looking at the Hustler magazine, but he quickly covered it up and came around the counter, extending his hand for me to shake.

No way in hell was I touching that hand because I had a pretty good idea of where it had been.

"Twice in two days," he continued. "I need to go play the lottery or something because I am on an amazing streak of good luck."

I didn't hesitate or waste time with pleasantries.

Instead, I did a quick glance around the room to make sure that he was alone in the office, and then I pulled my gun on him.

"Whoa, hey, what the hell?"

"Where is she, Ted?"

"Where is who?"

"You gave us that whole bullshit story last night, and then you tipped her off. I bet you set up the jacking, didn't you? You stripped the car, smeared a little bit of blood on the seat, because you knew that we'd have that APB out. You knew the cops would find it."

Ted's eyes danced nervously from me to Bobby, who was standing watch near the door.

"Hey, man, can you tell her to put the gun away?"

"He's not going to help you," I told him. "In fact, he told me that he'd love to take a swing at you. I'm going to give you ten seconds to make the decision to help us, and then I'll let him take a go at you."

Bobby wasn't in much of a condition to take a go at anyone right now, but Ted didn't know that.

"No wait," I amended. I smirked at Bobby and added, "On second thought, I'm going to give you nine seconds to decide."

"Alex, I can't…I can't tell you."

"But it happened like I said, right? You screwed me over."

"It's what I do."

"You screw people over? That's what you do?" Bobby asked him as he stepped closer to us.

"No, I didn't mean that! I mean, I help abuse victims and if that means that I have to lie to people who are looking for them, then I lie."

"Do you think that I would hurt my own sister?"

"What? No!"

"Then why the hell did you lie to me? I'm not trying to take her back to a bad situation. I'm trying to help her _out _of a bad situation."

"I'm just…I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"Then _do_ the right thing. Because at the moment, you're aiding and abetting a kidnapper. So listen to what I'm telling you. She is _not_ running from an abusive husband, and her son is _not_ in danger. She panicked. That's it. And you're helping her, so unless you decide to start helping me, then my next call is to the police."

"You're not the police?"

"No," I told him as I pulled the slide back on my .45 and held it closer to his head. "Now tell us how you helped her. Where is she?"

And okay, so I didn't have the clip in the gun.

But he didn't know that, either.

And he was apparently too freaked out to notice.

"She's at a safe house in Yonkers."

"A safe house?"

"Yeah, the feds use it. I know a guy who works at the Bureau, and sometimes, if we need additional help and if their place is empty, he'll let me send someone up there."

"For how long?"

"What?"

"How long is she going to be at the safe house?" I said slowly, enunciating each word.

"She's waiting for me. I was planning to go back up there tonight to get her."

"You'd better not be lying to me."

"I'm…I'm not. I swear. I'll give you the address."

"Yes you will," I agreed.

"Can I…can I go get it?" he stammered.

"You don't need to go anywhere to get it," Bobby spoke up. "You have it memorized. Just say it."

And so he did.

He gave us the address for a federal safe house in Yonkers.

He was going to be in more trouble than he realized because I was going to call Agent Weiss and rat him out.

He was going to end up getting a federal witness killed if he was willing to cough up that kind of information. I hadn't even had to rough him up. Just the sight of the gun had him spilling his guts.

And I hated that I might be messing up Helen's chain, but he was a weak link.

I'd just have to call and explain that to her.

Aside from that, he was just sleazy.

And I was _really_ annoyed with myself for having carnal knowledge of the man.

"If you make a phone call, or tip her off somehow, and I have to come back here," I warned as I put my gun back in its holster. "It's going to get ugly."

"I won't," he assured me.

Bobby and I turned to leave, and apparently that was when Ted found his nerve.

"Hey," he called out to Bobby. "I hope for your sake that she's gotten better over the years. Man, when I had her, I nearly fell asleep."

In surprisingly quick fashion, Bobby crossed the room and punched him square on the jaw.

Ted went down to the floor and Bobby stood over him. He reached down and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting him halfway off of the floor.

"Was there something else that you wanted to say about my wife?" he asked menacingly.

"Uh…no…" he replied dazedly.

"Come on, Bobby," I said gently. "Let's go so he can get back to…whatever it was that he was doing."

Bobby let go of him and Ted thudded gracelessly back to the tile.

"Feel better?" I asked him once we were outside. "You got to hit him."

"He deserved more than that for what he said."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But we already wasted enough time on him. Now we've got the address. Let's go to Yonkers."

TBC...


	49. Chapter 49

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

Liz called before we got to 1PP and asked us to take a detour by the morgue.

"I found something that may interest you," she said.

"That's great, but…what are you doing there?" I asked her. "I thought that you were going to take the day. What about your hand?"

"I took care of it already. And I needed to work," she said. "You can understand that."

I didn't argue with her.

I _could_ understand it.

I also had a feeling that she and I should sit down for a heart-to-heart chat as soon as we resolved this case.

Surely she could use a friend right now and honestly, I owed her.

She'd helped me out quite a bit after that whole Taggart incident.

And she'd shared with me a story that I doubted anyone else knew.

I mean, Ross probably did. Maybe. But that was about it.

And knowing that story slightly changed the effect that this most recent attack may have on her.

"We'll be there in ten minutes," I said. I hung up the phone and told Mike that she had something.

"Why is she at work?" he asked me in concern.

And I loved him for that being his first question.

Not _what did she find_. But _why was she working_.

"She needed the distraction, I think," I replied. "It'll help to get some time between the attack and the present. Then she'll be able to deal."

He nodded thoughtfully, but didn't say anything more until we got to the morgue.

"If you need to spend some time with Liz…alone, I mean…just let me know. I'll chase down whatever lead she gives us. You just make sure that she's okay."

I squeezed his hand and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then we headed into the building.

"I'm Suzi and I'm a chocoholic," Liz announced when we walked into her autopsy suite.

"I knew about the chocoholic thing, but you're changing your name now?" Mike asked her with a half-grin.

And to my surprise, he crossed the room and gave her a hug.

"How're you doing, Doc?" he asked her affectionately when he released from his embrace.

She managed to look startled and touched and embarrassed all at the same time.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Good. So what's this about you being Suzi?"

"That's the nail polish from your suspect," she replied. "I went by the lab when I got in and found a few things with your name on them. Where did the fingernail come from?"

"We had a break-in last night at the office," I explained. "It doesn't look like anything was taken, but someone sure had a good time making a mess of things."

"Well, your perpetrator has nine lovely nails painted with a unique shade of polish. And the one that she was kind enough to leave behind provided us with a DNA sample."

"Did it match up to something we have on file?" Mike asked hopefully.

"No. But get this. The lab also pulled DNA from a substance that was _on_ the fingernail."

"A substance. You mean like skin cells? Like she'd scratched someone before the nail broke?"

"It could've been that. Only it wasn't. This substance was semen."

"Ew. Okay. Um…huh."

"Carolyn, you're tongue-tied. That doesn't happen very often," she said with a smile.

"I just wasn't expecting that. Okay, so did we get a match?"

"Yes we did," she said with a nod.

"If it's Harker, I'm gonna have to kiss you," Mike told her.

"Ah, well, I never was lucky in love," she replied with a dismissive wave.

"It's not Harker?" I asked in surprise.

"It's Peter Boyer."

**

* * *

**

Liz POV

It pained me to even say the man's name, but I was still convinced that working today would be therapeutic.

And finding out more about what kind of man had attacked me could only help.

Because knowledge was power, right?

So I'd convinced Danny that I was okay to work, and I'd jumped into the case with both feet. I'd gone by the lab to find out about the gloves and then I'd run across the fingernail, complete with results.

I also had the preliminary results on the gloves that Pebo had been wearing. There were trace amounts of blood that matched up to Barry Brubaker.

"So Pebo definitely killed Brubaker," I told them. "And he was having some kind of a sexual relationship with the woman who broke into your office."

"And that's Hemmings," Mike said. "But I would've sworn that she and Harker were an item."

"Does it matter?" I asked him. "I mean, does it change the theory?"

"Not really," Carolyn said with a shrug. "I mean, we know that they're working together, but as friends or lovers, it doesn't really matter. We still need to find that missing piece of the puzzle. Everything you have is great, and it'll help us get arrest warrants."

"Well, for Hemmings at least," Mike interrupted. "We still have to pull the call logs on Harker to get more proof that he's involved."

"Having his number in the murderer's phone doesn't give you some kind of probable cause?" I asked him.

"We need more or he'll skate," he replied.

"I wonder what Lupo's guy got off that data stick," Carolyn said to Mike.

The two of them began a hushed conversation in which they seemed to leave out key words and they were saying more with looks and nods than with their voices.

I watched in amazed amusement for a couple of minutes and then I finally had to interrupt.

"You guys have been hanging out with Bobby and Alex for entirely too long," I told them.

"Oh, sorry, we're…" Carolyn began distractedly, and then she shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

"It's fine," I insisted.

Because it really was.

I enjoyed seeing the two of them working so well together.

And it made me miss Danny.

It made me realize that I needed to open up to him and tell him what was on my mind rather than closing off and keeping it inside.

Last night, when he'd found me in the bathroom, he'd held me for the longest time. And then I'd taken a shower and we'd gone to bed.

But silently.

And it felt like there was a gaping chasm between us.

It almost felt like Marcus all over again, and I couldn't let that happen.

"It's fine," I said again. "But you didn't let me tell you the best part."

"What's that?" Mike asked.

"The letter," I stated. "The lab found trace evidence of fingernail polish on the paper. On top of the ink," I said pointedly.

"Fingernail polish," Carolyn said. "As in…I'm Suzi and I'm a chocoholic?"

I gave her a nod of affirmation, and we all wore matching smiles. It was exhilarating when things started to come together.

"So all we have to do is confirm that the nail belongs to Ms. Hemmings and we'll have our mysterious author," Mike stated.

Then he turned to Carolyn and said, "Sweetheart, I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a round-up."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

Mike called me as we neared 1PP.

Liz had matched the nail polish from the break-in to the Dear John letter.

"We need to bring her in," Mike said.

"Hemmings?"

"Uh huh."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," I agreed. "So where is she?"

"I've got a theory about that," he said. "But I also have an idea about Harker, and I can't do both. Where are you two?"

"Almost back," I told him. "And my guy, whom we are apparently going to start calling Mulder, got miles of stuff off that data stick. Interesting let's-fuck-him-over kind of stuff. So me and Bernard were thinking it was time to pick up Harker."

"If you're near 1PP, do me a favor. Check out Harker's personnel file before you go get him. I'm thinking that the answer to our C-Dog question is in there somewhere."

"What makes you say that?"

"A hunch. And the dynamic of his relationship with the others."

"No problem," I agreed. "We were going to wait for the phone call anyway. So we'll check into Harker while you two follow your gut on Hemmings. I'll call Connie and let her know that we'll need an arrest warrant soon so that she can have it ready. If you find Hemmings, just sit on her, okay?"

"Oh, now what fun would that be?" he asked me.

"Mike."

"We won't do anything stupid. But we may have a little chat. And I'd love to get a closer look at her manicure."

I hung up with Mike and filled Bernard in on the latest.

"He's not going to get carried away is he?" he asked me.

"Mike? Possibly. But that's why he and Carolyn make a good team."

"She reels him in?"

"No, she's smart enough to provide a good cover story," I joked.

"Speaking of making a good team…did I hear you say that you need to call Connie about a warrant?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So make a date."

"We live together. We don't have to make dates."

"Lupes. Make a date. And tell her that you have something important that you want to talk with her about."

"Why?"

"Because if you say that, you can't chicken out. She won't let you."

I thought about his statement for a minute. He had a point.

But it was a very un-Bernard like thing to say.

"Why do you care?" I asked him carefully.

"Because we're partners," he replied, as though I'd just asked the dumbest question in the world. "We watch each other's back."

"Okay," I said with a slow nod. "I hear you."

So I parked the car in the garage at 1PP and then stayed in my seat while I dialed Connie.

And maybe it would be unprofessional of me to ask her on a date while I was also giving her a heads-up for an upcoming warrant request, but oh well.

It was just me and Bernard in the car, and apparently he had my back.

"She's probably in court," I told Bernard as the phone rang. "I may have to call Cutter about the warrant instead."

He just shrugged and sat back in the seat. I was getting ready to hang up when she finally answered in a hurried voice.

"Rubirosa."

"Oh, hey, I was expecting to get your voice mail," I said. "Aren't you supposed to be in court?"

"Don't ask," she replied in irritation. "It's been one thing after another this morning, and then the judge decided to toss the whole damn thing. Can you believe that? He dismissed. Without prejudice, but still…he tried to say that the prosecution had failed to meet the burden of proof, but I've got the damn proof. And if he'd given me ten minutes to tell him what I had, then he would've realized it, but no, he couldn't do that because he and the defense attorney are old golfing buddies, so it's wink-wink, nod-nod and good-bye trial. And does Jack support me in this? No. He says, _well Connie if you'd been better prepared then something like this probably wouldn't have happened._ Better prepared? Does he really think that I wasn't prepared?"

She paused for a moment, presumably to breathe after that lengthy tirade, but since the break was also at the end of a question, I thought that maybe I'd better answer it.

"I'm sure he doesn't."

"Doesn't what?" she barked out.

She was clearly in a bad mood and maybe this wasn't the best time to suggest a date. I glanced at Bernard, and of course he was watching me intently, and he gave me an encouraging nod.

"Um…I'm sure that he doesn't really think you weren't prepared."

She took another deep breath and then said my name on a sigh and the sound of it instantly restored my confidence.

It was the same sound she'd made last night when I'd pushed her to the brink of sanity.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm sure that you did not call so that I could yell at you."

"I did if that's what you needed," I replied.

"You are so sweet," she said. "I can never stay in a bad mood around you. So what can I do for you?"

"Uh, I'll probably want an arrest warrant today for Anna Janelle Hemmings. Mike and Carolyn went to see if they could track her down. Liz found some hard evidence that can potentially tie Hemmings to the break in as well as the attack on Liz, so I was hoping that you could have it ready."

"Sure. No problem."

"Great. Thank you. And I'm sorry about the trial. That judge is an idiot."

"You don't even know which one it was," she said, and I could literally _hear_ her smiling.

"I don't have to. If he treated you like that, then he's an idiot."

Bernard chucked me in the arm and motioned for me to _get to it_.

I waved him off and then pointed for him to get out of the car. I appreciated his encouragement, but I didn't need him eavesdropping.

"Hey, if we can finish up at a decent hour tonight, I'd like to take you to dinner."

"Yeah, to make up for Saturday night," she said quickly. "Sure, that sounds great."

"Good," I answered, for some reason relieved even though I had to know that she'd be willing to go to dinner.

I mean, we were living together.

"You know what?" I continued. "Even if it's late. Whatever time we finish, I'd like to take you somewhere. I have something that I…something that…I just really need to talk with you, okay?"

"Is everything okay?" she asked immediately.

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. I just…is that okay?"

"Sure," she replied hesitantly.

"Okay. Good. I'll call you later."

I hung up and got out of the car where Bernard was lurking, waiting on me.

"Everything okay?" he asked me. "Or did you wuss out?"

"Everything's fine," I said firmly. "And hey, don't say anything to anyone else about this, okay?"

"Of course not."

"Okay. Let's go pull Harker's file and see if Logan's hunch is on target."

TBC...


	50. Chapter 50

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We got in the car and left Sheepshead Bay, heading for Yonkers.

"Go back to sleep," Alex told me. "It'll take us a little while."

"I'm okay," I said. "I'm actually feeling a lot better."

She glanced at me skeptically, but she must have liked what she saw.

"You do look better," she agreed.

"Do you trust him?" I asked her. I didn't have to explain who I meant.

"Not really, but we can't exactly tie him up and lock him in a closet while we drive to Yonkers, can we?"

"Oh, I don't know," I countered. "Take me back. I'll have him bound and gagged in just a minute."

"I bet you will," she said with a smile.

"But seriously, what's to keep him from contacting her and telling her to run before we get there?"

"I don't know. There's got to be something we can do," she mumbled.

I could feel her frustration because I was right there with her on it. I mean, we'd love to have him arrested, but for what?

If we mentioned Cathy, then we'd end up getting her in trouble with the law and we were trying really hard to avoid that.

We'd already skirted the rules by using the APB to track down the Mazda. Sean hadn't mentioned that the car was wanted in connection with a kidnapping.

He'd simply stated that the driver was wanted for questioning.

His captain had given him some leeway, which was a testament to the respect that Sean had earned from his boss.

"Call Sean," Alex said, her mind having likely wandered in the same direction as mine, although I wasn't sure of the purpose for the call.

We certainly didn't want to get Sean into any trouble.

"And have him do what?"

"He can go question Ted."

"For what?"

I'll blame it on the medication, because most of the time we're on the same page, but this morning, I was clueless.

"That Mazda was his car, right? It belonged on his lot?"

And then I had it. So yeah, I was about a half a step behind due to this damn sinus infection.

"So he talks to him about the car and then Sean happens to discover that the VIN doesn't match up like it should, and ultimately Ted gets arrested for being in possession of stolen property," I concluded.

It was an excellent idea because Ted had all but admitted to us that some of the cars on his lot were there illegally.

"At the very least, Sean will keep him busy," she said. "And it's a legitimate reason for him to be there. The abandoned car had tags that belong to Ted's business."

I pulled out my phone to call her brother, who was hopefully still over in Red Hook as opposed to being on his way back to Brooklyn.

"Tell him to hurry," Alex said. "I figure Ted will find his nerve again pretty soon, and once he does, all bets are off."

"So does Sean know?" I asked her as the phone was ringing.

"About what?"

"About Ted?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does he _know_? About _Ted_," I said pointedly. "Mr. Nine Seconds?"

"Oh my God, Bobby," she said in exasperation. "I…well, yeah. He knows. Or I mean, he knew at the time. I didn't mention that he was involved in this thing."

"Eames," Sean answered.

"Hey, we need a favor," I said. "We just left the guy at the used car lot in Sheepshead Bay. We need you to sit on him and make sure that he doesn't make any phone calls. We think we know where Cathy is, but we don't want him to tip her off."

"Yeah, I can do that. I'm getting in my car now. I can be there in ten minutes."

"Check his phone. If he's made any calls, let us know."

"Okay."

"And while you're there, check his books, too. That stripped Mazda came from his lot, and we're pretty sure that it was stolen."

"Are handing me an auto theft ring?" he asked excitedly.

And I could appreciate that. He was still walking a beat, but busting open something big like that might earn him a shield.

"Maybe," I said. "Once you verify that the Mazda was there without proper paperwork, you can probably walk the lot and find half a dozen others."

And I felt a little bit bad about giving Ted up to Sean, but only in the sense that we'd be damaging a link in the chain.

Although Alex had already said that she was going to let Helen know about Ted, so hopefully PTI would be able to find a more suitable replacement.

"Find what you can in a hurry," I added. "Because after we get Cathy, we'll be calling the feds on him."

"Got it. I'll take care of him."

"Oh, and one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Do you remember Ted Conyers?"

I waited a beat while he gave the name some thought.

"Not really. Is that this guy?"

"Yeah. He dated Alex for a few months back in high school."

"_That _Ted? That's _this_ guy?" he asked.

"Uh huh."

Sean barked out a laugh and said, "Oh, this is going to be so much fun."

"You know you just made his day, right?" Alex asked me after I hung up with Sean. "You told him that we know where Cathy is, you handed him a potentially career-making bust, _and_ the guy whose head you put on a platter for him is someone that he wanted to beat up twenty-five years ago but I wouldn't let him."

"It's a good day to be Sean," I replied with a grin.

**

* * *

**

Cathy POV

The past twenty-four hours had been completely surreal.

The thing with Travis, and then with Steve…that had nearly broken my heart.

Who was I kidding? It _had_ broken my heart.

Because I'd been so sure that Steve and I would be able to work through our problems, and I'd _really_ been sure that was what I wanted to do.

I wanted him back.

And then Travis had to threaten me.

And make it seem like I'd done something that I hadn't.

Why had Steve believed him?

Because he didn't trust me anymore.

And how could I blame him for that?

I'd had his trust and I'd abused it.

When I realized that I had no legs to stand on, no proof to back up my assertion of innocence, hopelessness had flooded through me.

I'd watched Steve pull out of the parking lot and then I'd sat down on the ground and cried.

Steve would get sole custody of Nate. I had abandoned him and I was a bad mother.

_And I'd been so close to getting what I wanted_.

I'd sat outside for nearly an hour, completely blowing off my shift at work.

I felt like I just wanted to run away.

I mean seriously.

Who would miss me?

Steve?

He'd made it pretty clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with me.

Nate?

Probably not, and that was my fault. I'd barely made a footprint in his life over the past month.

So I'd sat there, debating on where to go and how to fund my escape when another thought hit me.

If I didn't show up at Travis' place, what would he do?

Would he go after Alex, as he'd mentioned?

Or would he go after Nate?

That thought terrified me.

I had no doubt that Alex could take care of herself, and even if she couldn't, Bobby would squash Travis like a bug.

But Nate…what if Travis went after him?

So then I'd adjusted my plan.

I'd run away and take Nate with me.

It was the only way that I could be sure he'd be safe.

And maybe after some time passed, I could talk to Steve and straighten things out.

I mean, I didn't want to keep him from Nate forever, but maybe at least until I knew for sure that Travis was locked up in jail.

With my mind made up, I'd left the hospital without another word.

I decided to get in touch with Protecting the Innocent.

I'd heard Bobby and Alex talking about it throughout the weekend, how the woman named Helen was helping abused women and their children escape.

They liked her, I could tell, so I didn't need to worry about trusting my own judgment.

I trusted theirs.

And with the amount of bruises on my ribs, I was pretty sure that I could get Helen to help me.

I didn't like misleading her about where the bruises had come from, but I wasn't lying about the fact that we needed to escape.

I _was_ afraid of Travis, and he _had_ openly stated that if I didn't comply with his orders then he would come after Alex or Nate.

I didn't like leaving Alex susceptible, but like I said, I knew that she could handle herself.

She was…amazing.

I wished that I was more like her.

If I was, then maybe I wouldn't feel the need to run.

Maybe I could stand up to Travis.

Maybe I could force Steve to listen to me.

But I wasn't like her.

So I'd picked Nate up from school and I told him that we were going on a secret adventure.

And then we went to Helen's.

She had been cautious and thorough, but in the end, my story held up under her scrutiny. Mostly because it was largely true.

So she'd given me cash and a cell phone and sent me on my way.

The next stop had been less comforting.

I knew the guy, although I was pretty sure that he didn't remember me. He was a jerk who had pressured Alex into sleeping with him and then he'd dumped her.

And the flashback to high school also served to weaken my resolve.

Was I doing the right thing?

Or would Alex help me if I asked?

"Hey, are you listening to me?" Ted had barked at me when I didn't respond to a question.

"Yeah," I'd replied numbly.

But in my mind, I was thinking about quitting.

Because _of course_ Alex would help me.

Hadn't she already been doing everything she could? Even though I'd been arguing with her, insulting her at every turn?

And how badly was I hurting Steve by doing this? He wouldn't understand that I was trying to protect Nate. He'd be going out of his mind with worry.

My eyes filled with tears at the realization that I had possibly made yet another colossal mistake.

When was it ever going to end?

"Don't go soft on me now," Ted had said. "Get in the car and follow the instructions. And you answer that phone when I call, do you hear me?"

"Uh huh."

So Nate and I had gotten in the car. I was halfway to my destination when he called me and told me to come back.

"Why?"

"You don't want to be found, do you?" he'd asked sharply. "Aren't you doing this to protect your kid?"

Yes. Yes, that was why I was doing this. I had to keep Nate safe until I was sure that Travis was behind bars.

The statement was my mantra now, and I repeated it over and over in my head as I turned the car around and reversed my route back to Sheepshead Bay.

Ted had been waiting for us, and wanted us to get into the car with him. I wasn't crazy about that idea even though I sort of knew him. Although I really didn't. All I knew was that he'd been an asshole in high school, a guy who was probably lucky that he still had functioning genitalia considering how he'd treated Alex.

But Helen trusted him, so…I'd gotten into the car.

He drove us to a tiny apartment in Yonkers and told me to stay put until I heard from him, but that it would probably be Tuesday night.

And then he'd left quickly, stating he had something to take care of.

So I'd put Nate to bed and then I'd sat up all night.

And by the time the sun came up, I'd made up my mind.

I had to go back.

I couldn't do this to Nate and I couldn't do it to Steve.

I needed to stand up to Travis, work with that ADA friend of Alex's to make sure that the charges stuck, and see to it that he spent some serious time in jail.

I wasn't going to walk around afraid.

And I wasn't going to give up on my marriage.

Not yet.

Steve needed to hear the truth before he made up his mind about me, and whether he chose to believe it or not would be up to him, but at the very least, I needed to say it.

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

**Logan POV**

* * *

My theory about Hemmings was that she was shacked up with Pebo.

I mean, if she had some kind of sexual relationship with him, and she'd been in the city last night, and she wasn't using her credit cards to stay at a hotel…well, she had to be somewhere and it stood to reason that she'd be at his place.

It wasn't rock solid, but I felt pretty confident about it.

She'd either been there, or at Harker's but if she'd been staying at Harker's then how did she end up with Pebo's mojo underneath her fingernail?

"Brooklyn," Carolyn said after looking up the necessary information. "Bed-Stuy."

So I turned the car toward the Brooklyn Bridge and we made the trip back across the East River.

"Do you think that she knows he's dead?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"I wonder how Bernard feels about her now. It was bad enough when she screwed him over for a dirty cop. Now to find out that she was hooking up with a felon…"

"You think that makes it worse?" she asked me.

"Doesn't it? I mean, if it was just Harker, then he could decide that she's basically a good person who maybe got caught up in a bad set of circumstances. But with Pebo…he's a convicted felon. That was a choice."

"Maybe she's not dating Pebo."

"And what? She just provided him with a little bit of manual release to ease his tension before sending him off to kill Liz?"

"Well, you know men," she said on a chuckle. "They can't do anything for themselves."

"Ha ha," I said, although I couldn't help but smile when I said it.

"What I don't get is the break-in," she said. "How does that factor in to any of this? Just something to slow us down?"

"Maybe," I replied with a shrug. "So play this out with me. If Pebo had actually been successful, how would that have worked for them? Because maybe the break-in was supposed to be part of that."

"So, Hemmings trashed our office while Liz was getting killed because it fit their cover story?"

"Right."

"Okay, I'm with you. Bobby was the killer. And he was her lover. She broke it off with him, he flew into a rage and had to prove to her that he was a sexual stud, and then he killed her. But then what? Ross finds Liz's body and the letter?"

"And he'd go looking for Bobby."

"In their little fantasy world maybe, but do they really believe that people would respond that way? They actually expected Ross to go hunt him down? Or did they just want to see Bobby get arrested for the murder and let Ross' punishment be that he was devastated by the loss?"

"Maybe they were going to go after Bobby," I suggested. "Maybe they were setting up a love triangle and they were going to leave Ross holding the bag."

"So the plan was to kill Bobby, too," she said.

The ringing of my phone interrupted our brain storm session.

It was Lupo.

"We can't find squat in Harker's personnel file," he said when I answered. "You expected there to be something that might point us in C-Dog's direction?"

"Yeah," I said with disappointment.

"Well, nada. In fact, the file's pretty light. I'm wondering how much information got sent up from DC because as it stands, we know frighteningly little about Detective Harker."

"Then how in the hell did he get the job?"

"We asked Ross that very same question. He's going to follow up with the commissioner."

"Okay."

"And the phone records were clean," he added. "Unless you count the numerous calls made to drop cells."

"And to Pebo's?" I asked hopefully.

"Uh huh. There were frequent calls from Harker's line to Pebo's cell, starting about six weeks ago."

"It all goes back to around that time, doesn't it?" I said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, well and Harker didn't call Pebo's phone this morning," he said.

"So he knows," I replied.

"That's our guess. He sounded pretty adamant last night that he'd call Pebo at ten, and it's almost ten-thirty now, so…yeah, I'm thinking that he knows something is amiss."

"Which means that he knows his plan has gone to hell," I added.

"Uh huh. It's possible that he'll be in the wind."

"Or, he's so damn cocky that he thinks we don't know about the connection."

"He almost has to know that we've pegged him. If he thinks Pebo got caught in the act, then he'll know we found evidence on him. Me and Bernard are headed for his place now. Where are you two?"

"Almost to Bed-Stuy, home of the infamous Pebo."

"Hemmings?"

"That's our guess. Either that or you'll get a two-fer at Harker's. Are you going to arrest him?"

"We're going to take him in for questioning."

"Well, watch your backs," I told him. "We're still missing a key player and it's hard to say where he'll turn up."

"I hear you. You, too, my friend."

**

* * *

**

Connie POV

So far, the only bright spot to my day had been the phone call with Lupo.

And even that had me slightly apprehensive.

I couldn't imagine what he wanted to talk to me about, and it made me a little bit nervous that _he_ was nervous.

He'd seemed fairly insecure lately about my feelings for him and I wondered if he'd somehow managed to convince himself that I'd be better off without him.

It wouldn't surprise me, but I'd just have to be sure to convince him that I _wouldn't_ be better off without him.

That I _never_ wanted to be without him.

_And yeah, if I said something like that, I'd probably scare him off_, I thought with a chuckle.

But so I had that in the back of my mind while I attempted to deal with the rest of my day.

After the good ol' boy judge had dismissed my case, I'd gotten a call from Travis' lawyer.

Apparently, he was creating quite the stink about his client's condition.

Again.

"He violated his restraining order," I reminded him. "Immediately. I mean, he literally must have driven from jail to where she worked."

"He drove to the hospital. How was he supposed to know that she'd be there?" he replied slickly.

"Patrick, you know damn well…"

"Connie," he interrupted. "Tell it to the judge. He's agreed to hear my motions, so I'll see you in chambers."

I slammed the phone down and reached for my jacket.

I hadn't even been given copies of the motions, so how was I supposed to go defend against them?

"Ms. Rubirosa?"

"Yes?" I answered sharply. I looked around to find a young secretary holding out copies of the motions in question.

"These were just dropped off for you."

"Thank you," I forced myself to say.

I took the documents and glanced over them, shaking my head in annoyance.

Why was it that it was so hard to keep these assholes behind bars?

I mean, it should be simple.

He was told to stay away from her.

He didn't.

End of story.

Except that it wasn't.

"I'll be back," I said to Mike as I stuck my head in his office. "Donker's attorney has apparently filed a couple of motions. He's asking that the judge reinstate bail and that he quash the TRO."

"What could his argument be?" he asked me incredulously. It was nice to know that he was on the same page as me.

"I have no idea," I said. "But he got the judge to agree to hear it in chambers."

"You want me to come with you?" he offered.

"No. Thanks, though. I'll handle it."

In hindsight, maybe I should've accepted his help. But I hadn't realized that I was going to be ganged up on, yet again, by the boys' club.

When I got to Judge Tyler's chambers, Patrick was already there, and the two of them were deep in conversation about snow geese.

Apparently, the end of hunting season was fast approaching and the two of them were discussing getting in one more good hunt.

Together.

I took a deep breath and cleared my throat to signal my arrival.

"Ah, Miss Rubirosa. Come in," the judge said. "Patrick, or rather Mr. Cohn, tells me that his client was arrested again yesterday, this time for violating a TRO. And he spent another night in lock-up, is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Honor," I replied. "He was arrested on Friday for domestic abuse and drug possession, and the TRO was put into effect. He made bail yesterday and immediately sought out the victim while she was at work."

"At a hospital," Patrick said. "My client was simply going to receive follow-up treatment for injuries he received _while being placed under arrest_. And might I add, when he was brought in again yesterday, he had additional injuries."

"Do you have documentation to back that up?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Sir, the injuries happened when the defendant resisted arrest. It was unavoidable."

"Both times?" the judge asked me as he glanced over the photos that Patrick had given him.

"Both times the arresting officer was the brother of the alleged victim," Patrick supplied. "All we have here is a case of a woman scorned, Your Honor. And then her brother the cop goes in to defend her honor. My client has done nothing wrong. In fact, he is a victim in this whole situation as much if not more so than Ms. Stromer."

I shoved down my indignant outrage at his suggestion and forced myself to be professional. I got out my own set of photographic evidence and slid it across the judge's desk.

"A woman scorned? More like a woman kicked with a pair of size ten boots," I argued. "She has a cracked rib and multiple bruises."

"We're getting ahead of ourselves here. These facts are for the trial," the judge said, pushing the pictures back towards me after only giving them a passing glance. "The motion deals with bail. Should the defendant be released on the bail as was set at the hearing yesterday morning? And I'm going to say yes. He would have had no way of knowing that the alleged victim would be at the hospital at that specific time. And he did not cause her any additional harm."

"Your Honor, we don't know that. At this time, I've been unable to locate Ms. Stromer," I stated.

I wasn't about to tell him that she'd run off with Nate, although maybe I should. Maybe then he'd see how truly afraid she was, for her life and for that of her son.

"My client says that he spoke with her, in passing, in an effort to smooth relations," Patrick said quickly. "And without Ms. Stromer's statement to the contrary…"

"I couldn't agree more. Your motion is granted."

"And the TRO?"

"The restraining order will be modified to state that your client must stay more than five hundred yards from Ms. Stromer's home. I'm not going to include her place of work, as I'm not going to be responsible for denying Mr. Donker medical treatment."

"Your Honor," I argued. "There are plenty of hospitals in this city. He does not need to go to the one where the woman he's been _beating _works."

My voice had risen in pitch and volume because I realized that I was losing this battle.

In fact, I had a feeling that I'd lost it before it even began.

I hated knowing that I was failing Cathy, failing Alex.

And I really hated that this guy…this pompous little jerk of a man…was going to get out of jail again.

This was a bad situation waiting to happen.

And maybe it was a good thing that Cathy had run off, because it was very possible that Travis would go looking for her as soon as he was released.

"_Allegedly_ beating," Patrick countered. "And if my client is found guilty then I won't dispute the full scope of the original TRO, but while he's on bail, he's still an innocent man. Preventing him from entering a public hospital…"

"Enough," the judge interrupted. "This motion is granted, as well."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Patrick said quickly. The judge turned his gaze onto me, and for a moment, I wondered if he could literally see the smoke coming from my ears, because surely it was there.

So much so that I couldn't maintain the proper etiquette.

I didn't say thank you.

I didn't say anything at all, and I consider that a victory of willpower, because what I wanted to say would've gotten me tossed in jail for contempt.

At the very least.

I called Alex as I was on my way back to the office.

"He's getting out again," I told her.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"No. I wish I was. The judge is granting him release on his original bail, and he amended the TRO. Apparently now he only has to stay away from her while she's at home but at work, she's fair game."

"Okay," she said simply. "When is his court date?"

"A week from tomorrow."

"Okay," she said again. "Well, thank you for trying."

"I'm sorry," I said, and for some inexplicable reason, I felt like crying.

And maybe it was because she didn't seem to be placing the blame on me. She was letting me off the hook when I'd failed her miserably.

And maybe I was getting a little bit too involved in this. I was using it as a way to exorcise the demons of my own past.

Well, whatever. They needed to be exorcised.

And Cathy needed to be safe.

And Travis needed to be behind bars.

And damn it, wasn't that supposed to be my job?

"Have you had any luck?" I asked her. "Finding her, I mean?"

"We've got a solid lead," she replied. "We should know soon enough. I'll keep you posted."

"Oh, you don't have to…I mean, I know that I'm not…you have enough…"

"Connie," she interrupted. "You've helped us a lot. Like it or not, you're one of us now. I'll keep you posted."

I hung up with her feeling a whole lot better about myself.

And I also had an idea about how I might hasten and lengthen Travis' time behind bars.

Because surely Cathy wasn't his first.

And maybe if I could track down a few of his former girlfriends, I could get them to testify against him.

And by showing a pattern, it would create a greater impact on the jury. It couldn't be explained away as one woman who had just rubbed him the wrong way.

He was a chronic batterer.

And I had no doubt that I'd find more victims.

TBC...


	52. Chapter 52

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

Mike was suitably frustrated when he hung up with Lupo.

"At least they're going to pull in Harker. He can't deny knowing Pebo," I said.

"No, but I was so sure that there would be something in his file. I mean, there has to be. You can't just get street cred because you want it. And if Harker's bossing around a paroled felon…"

"Well, how does a guy like Harker even meet a man like Pebo?" I posed. "Maybe we should pull his arrest records. Did Pebo ever get popped in Rockville?"

"You know, that's a good question," he said. "Because he did time in Rikers. So unless it was a long time ago, then no, he wasn't popped in Rockville."

"So following that theory," I said. "Harker met Pebo in New York."

"Yeah, but he hasn't been here that long. And Pebo hasn't been out that long, either. This thing's been in motion almost from the beginning, since Harker moved up here. How would he meet Pebo and Hemmings _and_ put the plan into effect that quickly? Hemmings was hitting on Bernard right away. They couldn't have known that they'd need him. I mean, usually it takes a person a little while to come up with a revenge scheme. Especially something as elaborate as this."

"So he knew the scheme but didn't know the players," I suggested. "Pebo and Hemmings just fit his needs."

But he still shook his head.

"We're missing something."

"Well, let's pick her up and ask her. We're acting as agents of the department right now. We can take her in."

"We don't have our warrant yet," he reminded me.

"So we'll see if we can get her to agree to join us. You remember how to play the game, don't you?"

"Sweetheart, I invented the game," he replied.

My comment had served its intended purpose, which was to help pull him out of his funk. We didn't have time to get depressed over the evidence, or lack thereof. We needed to get ahead of this before they made their next move.

He found a parking spot two blocks away from Pebo's building, but I stopped him before he could get out.

"Call Ross," I encouraged. "Have him dig a little deeper into Harker's past."

"He's probably got his hands full with the commissioner."

"It won't hurt to ask," I prodded.

Because I trusted Mike's gut.

And if he thought that looking through Harker's past would lead us to C-Dog, then that was what we needed to do.

And Ross was the only one who wasn't out on the streets at the moment.

"Okay," he agreed. He pulled out his phone and put in a call to the captain.

"Yeah, it's Logan," I heard him say. "I wanted to see if you could do me a favor."

I only partially listened as he spoke to Ross because my mind was busy rearranging the facts as we knew them.

And Mike was definitely right.

We _were_ missing something.

And I'd love to think that we'd be able to play Hemmings and get her to confess to something, but the truth was that she'd been pretty smart about most everything so far.

Aside from using a version of her real name to open that checking account anyway.

Although, had she wanted us to track her there? Because it's not like we actually found _her_.

Maybe she was somehow setting up Harker to take the fall.

We might never have looked at him otherwise. Not seriously, anyway.

"He's on his way to the morgue to check up on Liz," Mike told me when he hung up. "But he said that he'll get on it as soon as he gets back to the office."

"Okay, good. Now let's find out if Hemmings is lurking in her lover's pad."

"Yeah, well I just hope she washed her hands."

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

Liz had talked me into letting her go into work this morning, but I wasn't crazy about it.

Although, maybe I _was_ crazy for believing that I actually had any say in the matter.

Liz didn't need my permission to do anything.

But I was concerned about her, going back to the scene of the crime so to speak.

She'd been extremely quiet all throughout the night, despite the fact that she'd slept very little.

I wasn't going to let this happen. I wasn't going to let her shut down and keep me on the outside while she dealt with her emotions alone.

And even though I rarely insisted that she do anything, I was going over to the morgue to insist that she talk to me.

Although I wasn't going to say it exactly like that.

I'd have to finesse her a little, maybe do some talking of my own.

And I could do that.

It wouldn't be easy for me but she was worth it.

I entered the autopsy suite and found her mopping the floor.

"Don't you have people who do that?" I asked her, and then I winced at the fact that I'd startled her.

"Danny! I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, and then I looked around the room to be sure that we were alone before pulling her into a hug.

"What are you doing here?" she asked me when I released her.

"Do I need a reason to see my wife?"

"In the middle of the work day when you've got an overloaded inbox? Yes."

"I came to see how you were doing," I admitted. "Can you take a break, or do you need to finish mopping?"

"I was just…well, you know. I wanted to make sure it was clean."

From the blood.

Last night this floor had been covered in it.

Today, the tile was sparkling clean.

"I think it's good," I told her, taking the mop from her hand. "I can see my face in it."

"Anything new on the case?" she asked me as I followed her to her office. We went in and I closed the door before sitting down in a chair.

"All my guys are out chasing leads," I replied vaguely. "We'll find something."

"Good. What about Alex and Bobby? Any word on Cathy?"

"I haven't heard from them today," I answered. I made a mental note to give them a call when I got back to the office.

She sat back in her chair and held my gaze.

"I'm fine, Danny," she said after a minute. "You didn't have to come down here to check on me."

"I know that I didn't have to," I said, reaching out to take her hand. "I wanted to. I'm worried about you."

"Don't be."

We were sitting side by side and I was holding her hand and yet I felt like there were miles between us. I wished I'd given a little more thought beforehand as to exactly what to say, but as it was, my mind was scrambling to think of something astute.

Perceptive escaped me, so I settled for honest.

"I'm not upset about that letter. I know that you probably think that I am, but…I'm not."

"Well, it has to help that it was found in the guy's pocket. It was pretty obvious that it was forged."

"No matter where we'd found it, I would've known it was forged," I insisted. "Liz, I trust you unequivocally, without a doubt."

"And Bobby?"

"I trust him, too," I assured her.

And I meant it.

"You've come a long way," she said, giving my hand a little squeeze.

"If I could go back to that day in Moran's office…"

"Which time?" she asked smartly. "When he convinced you that Bobby was sleeping with Nancy? Or when he got you to promise never to get married?"

"Either. Both. Although, you know what would be more fun is to go back to that day that I told him we _had_ gotten married," I told her with a grin. "Oh, he was so mad. He must have yelled at me for nearly an hour."

"You never told me that."

"Well, I didn't want you to know that I'd gotten into so much trouble over it. I mean, it wasn't any kind of official trouble. He was just ticked. I was glad to finally have it out in the open, and I realized how stupid I was to let him dictate my personal life anyway."

We sat quietly for a minute, each lost in our own thoughts. I'd hoped that by opening the door, then she might speak up about what was foremost on her mind.

And eventually, she did.

"I'm having trouble with the knowledge that I took a life."

"That's understandable," I said quietly. "It's not an easy thing to do."

"I didn't have to," she said.

"Of course you did."

"No, I mean, I didn't have to kill him. When I stabbed him with that scalpel, I went straight for the carotid. I knew what it would do to him. What made me do that? Why didn't I just cut him? Hurt him enough to get him off of me?"

"Because you were in fear for your life."

"So that makes it okay?"

"Hell yes that makes it okay," I insisted. I ran my hand along her cheek to get her to look at me. "Liz, he came after you. He was going to…he was going to _kill_ you. You did what you had to do to escape."

When she continued to look at me with a dubious expression, I continued, "What if you'd cut him, and it hadn't stopped him? What then? The element of surprise would've been gone. Your opportunity would've been wasted. And you said yourself that he was so much bigger and so much stronger…"

I was getting myself worked up just talking about it.

Maybe the discussion would help me as much as her because I felt the fear just as if it was happening all over again.

She got up from the chair and wrapped her arms around me.

"I was so scared," she admitted softly.

"So was I. But you were smart and tough and you saved yourself."

I held her for several minutes, but then I let her go when one of her assistants walked into the autopsy suite.

"I'd probably better let you get back to work," I said.

"We'll talk more tonight," she told me.

"Definitely. Call me if you need me, okay?"

"I'll always need you, Danny," she replied, and then she surprised me by giving me a kiss despite our audience. "But yes, I'll call if anything comes up."

I left the morgue feeling marginally better. She'd been open to the idea of sharing with me. At one time that would have been a huge hurdle and it was a testament to the progression of our relationship that talking had seemed like the natural thing to do. All that had been required was a little effort.

And I'd been telling the truth about that letter. It was certainly the least of my worries, and only a consideration at all because of its importance to the case. And yeah, once upon a time, I would've puffed up like a peacock at the mere mention of Liz and Bobby.

But not anymore.

And damn that Moran for ever having put the thought of Bobby as an adulterer into my head in the first place.

I certainly didn't miss that man. He deserved every minute of his time behind bars.

I got back to the office and pulled up what I could find on Harker. The commissioner had told me that Harker's placement in MCS had been approved by Akers, the pro-temp chief at the time. That didn't surprise me because he'd been an incompetent ass.

Since Harker's file held very little information, I decided to make a call. Surely his former captain in Rockville would be able to provide me with some insight.

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

Pebo had lived on the top floor of a dumpy apartment building.

And by dumpy, I mean it was a rat hole.

The front door was barely on its hinges, the lobby floor was a combination of broken tile and bare concrete, and of course, the elevator was broken.

And did I mention that his apartment was on the top floor?

Yeah.

So we walked up twelve flights of stairs.

"If she runs, you'll have to chase her," I joked around the eighth floor. "Because I am too damn old for this."

"You keep trying to convince me that you're old, but you know, I don't see it," she countered. She punctuated her statement with a pat on my ass. "But yeah, if she runs, I'll get her. I'd love an excuse to tackle her."

"Feeling a little hostile toward the woman with the funky-colored fingernails?"

"We hope she has funky-colored fingernails. I mean, what if we're wrong?"

"Bernard says that the polish on the nail we found was the same as the color she wears. No way do two women involved with this case where the same obscure shade."

"True. Then yeah, I am feeling a little hostile toward her. She's in bed with the guy who tried to kill Liz. And she screwed over Bernard."

"He's bouncing back nicely," I told her. "But she did mess with his head a little bit."

We heard the door open above us as we rounded the landing at the eleventh floor.

We both stopped cold and looked up.

We didn't have a clear line of sight, but it was definitely a woman who was walking down the stairs.

Carolyn waved for me to move back out of the way, and then she went up to meet the woman halfway in between the eleventh and twelfth floors.

"Hi, A.J.," I heard Carolyn say in a casual tone of voice.

I peeked around the corner in time to see Hemmings clock Carolyn with a suitcase, shoving her into the railing and then pushing past her, coming straight for me.

Of course, she didn't see me until she was halfway down that flight of stairs.

And when she did, she paused for just a second, but that was all it took for Carolyn to catch her from behind.

Both of them tumbled down the remaining four steps and landed in a pile at my feet.

I pulled my gun, but kept my distance as Carolyn battled for the upper hand.

Despite Hemmings having a size advantage, it was only a few seconds before she found herself pinned to the floor.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked Hemmings. "Because we'd really like to talk with you for a few minutes."

"Fuck you, Logan."

"Oh, so you remember my name," I said with a grin. "I'm so touched."

"Well, apparently she knows me, too," Carolyn said. "And why is that?"

"Get off of me, bitch! You have no right to detain me. You guys aren't cops."

"No, we're not, but you just assaulted me with your suitcase. Mike, don't you think we should make a citizen's arrest?"

"Sweetheart, you read my mind," I replied. Carolyn got off of Hemmings and yanked her to her feet.

Then she turned her around and shoved her into the wall, holding her hands flat against the painted cinder blocks and displaying nine perfectly painted nails.

"Check out Suzi the chocoholic," Carolyn remarked. "And I wonder what happened to the nail on your middle finger?"

I had all kinds of comments to make about that, but I decided to be the nice guy.

"What's going on, A.J.? Why are you running?" I asked her as Carolyn let her go so that she could turn around.

"Who says I'm running?"

"You were carrying a suitcase," Carolyn reminded her.

"I don't live here. I was just spending time with a friend."

"Oh, so you're on your way back to Chevy Chase?"

"No."

"Or to Harker's place? I wouldn't go over there if I were you. The cops are there right now. In fact, it's Detective Bernard. You remember him, don't you?"

I watched her face as a bevy of emotions stormed across it, but then she settled with a look of resolve.

"I was coming to the precinct," she said firmly.

"You were," Carolyn stated disbelievingly.

"Yes. I need to report a crime."

"You mean other than you breaking into our office? And other than you accosting me with your Samsonite?" Carolyn asked her.

"I'm sorry about hitting you. You just startled me. And I don't know what you mean about a break in, but I do know about something else."

"What?"

"It's Matt. He killed a guy last week in John Jay Park."

TBC...


	53. Chapter 53

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I didn't expect for one second that Matt Harker would still be at home.

He hadn't made the call, so surely he knew that at the very least we had Pebo in custody.

And how would he know that?

Had he checked up on things?

Or had Hemmings called him to say that Pebo hadn't come home?

Or did he just expect that he would've seen the report on the news if Pebo had been successful in taking Liz's life?

Or did he not call for some other reason? Was he simply going to cut his ties with Pebo after the murder, and leave him out to dry?

Whatever the case, we were going to keep our cards close to the vest.

We weren't going to tell him that Pebo was dead.

The less he knew about what _we_ knew, the better.

"So what's it going to be today, Lupes?"

"Let's keep him dazed and confused," I replied.

"He might buck up on us," he warned, although he had a smile on his face.

"I'm okay with that. Are you?"

He gave me a slow nod and then we got out of the car.

Of course, we were met at the door by the bulldog doorman.

"Detective Harker is not in."

"You know what?" Bernard replied as he shoved his badge in the guy's face. "I think we'll go check that out for ourselves."

For a second, I thought the doorman was going to bristle up on us, but then he deflated and stepped aside.

"Wise decision, my friend," I told him as we entered the lobby.

We split up to go to the fifth floor, with Bernard taking the elevator and me the stairs. He was waiting for me when I got up there, standing just outside of Harker's door.

"What took you so long?" he joked.

"Next time you get the stairs," I countered.

"Oh now come on, Lupes. I would think that you'd want to work on your stamina, what with trying to keep the lovely Ms. Rubirosa satisfied."

"There's nothing wrong with my stamina," I insisted. "I keep her plenty satisfied."

He looked at me dubiously for a minute, but then broke into a grin and pulled out his gun.

"Are you ready?"

"Let's do it."

I pulled out my weapon, too, and then banged heavily on the door.

"Matt Harker! NYPD. Open up."

We could hear noise coming from inside, so I was hopeful that he was actually still at home.

But what if he was going out onto the fire escape…

"We're coming on in the count of three!" I yelled. "One…two…"

And then the door opened up.

"Jeez, guys, I was in the shower," he said.

And he was standing there with a towel around his waist and wet hair, so his story was plausible. Bernard and I both reholstered our weapons since he was obviously unarmed.

"What's all of this about?" he asked.

"We need you to come downtown with us," Bernard told him.

"No. I don't think so," he said amiably.

"Come on, Harker," I said. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"The easy way," he mused. "You mean like how you took over my job in Major Case?"

"He didn't take your job," Bernard corrected. "You lost it. Then he got it. There's a difference."

"And why did I lose it, huh Bernard? Because you and Captain Ross are in bed together? And he just couldn't stand the idea of me being in his department, so he had to get you to spy on me."

"Why would Ross want you out?" I asked him. I was surprised that he'd jumped into this conversation, but since he had, I was going to find out where his animosity came from. "He didn't even know you."

"No, but he…" he stopped and looked back and forth between the two of us. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Oh my God," he said, and then he erupted into laughter. "This is too good. I knew you guys were a couple of bumbling pea brains, but you really don't know? Major Case…ha! More like major idiots! Have you guys ever solved…anything? Ever?"

"Yeah, we solved the mystery of who's behind the attempted murder of Dr. Rodgers," I stated, having had enough of his ridicule. "So go put some pants on because you're coming with us."

"I don't see a warrant in your hands," he insisted bravely, although I couldn't help but notice that his expression had faltered slightly when I mentioned _attempted_ murder.

"We're back to that, huh? Okay, here's the thing," Bernard said. "You have two options. You can come with us on your own accord, and answer a few simple questions. If you've done nothing wrong, then you don't have anything to worry about. You'll be done in an hour."

"Or," I added. "I call the ADA and get the warrant while we wait. You'll be arrested, and I don't know, but I have a feeling that your new captain over at OCCB won't like that too much. It doesn't look good when members of the department are arrested."

"Which means you might get to go back to Rockville," Bernard concluded with a smile. "Hey Lupes, I think I like that idea the best. Why don't you call the ADA?"

"Sounds good to me," I agreed as I pulled out my phone. I didn't dial yet, but instead just held it in my hand. Harker's agitation increased with my obvious willingness to make the call.

"You two are only making yourselves look dumber. If that's even possible. I haven't done anything," he said. "You'll see."

"I do see," Bernard said. "I see that you didn't even ask about Dr. Rodgers. In fact, the only thing about my partner's statement that seemed to surprise you is the fact that it's only an attempted murder. You want to know why?"

"Not really, no. I don't even know who this Dr. Rodgers person is."

"Oh come on now, Harker," I said. "Sure you do. She's the goddamn medical examiner and your buddy Captain Ross' wife. And you know that. Or at least, that's what your friend Pebo tells us."

"Pebo?"

"You know, the guy who you were supposed to call at ten o'clock this morning."

"I don't know any Pebo."

"Now that's a damn shame," Bernard says. "Because he sure as hell knows you. He's sitting down at 1PP right now, singing like a canary."

He stared at me hard, as though he was trying to determine through my expression whether or not Bernard was telling the truth.

I just held his gaze for a minute, and then moved to dial my phone.

"Put your damn phone away and let me get some pants," he said at last. "I'll come with you."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I longed for the days when I could slap a siren on top of the car and then barrel through traffic at breakneck speed.

And maybe that makes me a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but I'm fine with that.

And really, that siren was about the only thing that I've missed since we left the department.

_And _it was the only thing different in this scenario, too.

Because I was still going at breakneck speed.

"I should check with Logan and see if he still has that cherry," Bobby remarked as I weaved in and out of mid-morning traffic.

"Oh, I'm sure he does, but good luck getting it from him."

"If we get pulled over, it'll take us longer."

"You honestly think that I'm going to stop?"

"No," he replied with a grin. Then he added, "I'm going to call Sean and make sure that he got to Ted in time."

I liked that Bobby and Sean seemed to have developed a close relationship.

And maybe Helen had said it best.

_Sometimes circumstance breeds closeness more so than time_.

Sean and Bobby hadn't spent a lot of time together, but sharing the secret about Cathy seemed to have given them some common ground.

I listened idly while Bobby spoke to him on the phone, but mostly I was thinking about Cathy.

What was I going to say to her?

What if she didn't want to come back?

I mean, obviously I was going to take Nate back to his father, but I didn't want it to have to be by force.

I wanted it to be her decision.

I hoped that just by telling her that Steve knew the truth about what had happened with Travis, then maybe she'd be willing to try to work things out.

But Cathy could be hard-headed sometimes.

And I couldn't be a hundred percent sure what was going through her mind.

"Sean's got Ted," Bobby said when he hung up. "No calls were made from his phone, so we should be good."

"Unless he was lying about where she is."

"If that's the case, I'm sure that Sean will be more than happy to finagle the truth from him."

With confirmation that Ted had been true to his word, at least about not making any phone calls, I let up slightly on the accelerator.

It wouldn't be good for us to have an accident, and Bobby was right. There was no need to tempt the locals.

We were nearly to Yonkers when Connie called to give me the news that Travis would once again get out on bail.

She sounded pretty upset about that, almost more so than I was. I had no doubt that she was considering the situation as a personal failure so I did my best to assure her that we felt otherwise.

And really, this bail deal with Travis was exactly the reason why I supported what Helen was doing.

It was extremely difficult to throw the book at domestic abusers.

"Connie," I said, interrupting her uncertain rambling. "You've helped us a lot. Like it or not, you're one of us now. I'll keep you posted."

I hung up with her and made a mental note to include her in our next girls' night. I couldn't wait to hear what kind of stories she would have to tell after partaking of a few shots of tequila.

Aside from that, I truly liked her, and I liked Lupo, so I'd been sincere with my assertion that she was one of us.

"That's your turn, right up there," Bobby pointed out.

I slowed down and made the turn, and then eased the car along the curb in front of a nondescript apartment building.

For some reason, butterflies filled my stomach and I hesitated to get out of the car.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah. I'm just…yeah."

"You're afraid that she's going to fight you."

"I don't know. I just keep thinking of everything that I should've said to her before now, things that I could've said that might've helped to keep us from this situation."

"You think that this is your fault?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe. She…she's always tried to compete with me, and maybe I've always thought that was silly, but it wasn't silly to her, and the fact that I treated it as such probably frustrated her even more. I mean, I've never really tried to dispel the myth, have I? When I screw up, I keep it to myself, so she probably _does_ see me as this perfect person. I should've shared with her all along, and then maybe we wouldn't be here."

He smoothed his hand over my hair, a sweet gesture of his that I absolutely love.

It manages to make me feel comforted and cherished and feminine all at the same time.

"You can't take on this burden," he said gently. "You've been a role model for her. Exactly what a big sister should be. And this…this is just the result of a whole collection of misunderstandings."

"Okay," I said hesitantly, slowly drawing upon his strength.

"And we're going to go in there, and you two can talk, and I promise you that it's going to come out okay."

"Okay," I said again, this time with more conviction. "Okay, let's go."

"Of course, you are wrong about one thing," he added as I reached to undo my seatbelt.

"What's that?"

"It's no myth," he said, sliding his hand along my cheek and bringing his lips to mine. "You are perfect."

I didn't argue with his statement, although I could've. He knows as well as I do that I'm far from perfect, but I appreciated his sentiment.

I'm perfect for_ him_, as he likes to say. And that I'll agree with because I think the same thing about him.

We got out of the car and went into the building. The apartment was on the second floor, so we went up the stairs and down the hall.

Bobby knocked on the door while I rehearsed in my head what I wanted to say.

But there was no answer.

"Cathy, it's me," I called out loudly as Bobby pounded again.

Nothing.

Of course, there was no turning back now.

"Do your thing," Bobby said, stepping back from the door to give me room to work.

So I picked the lock.

And I was dismayed to learn that only the knob was locked, because I had a feeling that I knew why.

We went inside and my assumption was correct.

The place was empty.

TBC...


	54. Chapter 54

**Ross POV**

* * *

I wasn't able to get through to the Rockville captain, but I left a message for him to call me back.

I didn't know if he would have much insight or not, but surely he'd know more about Harker than we did, considering that the man had worked for him for several years.

I knew that Logan's gut told him that something was in Harker's past, so it was bugging me that I'd yet to turn up anything helpful.

And something was niggling at the back of my mind, too. Something that I couldn't quite put my finger on, but I felt like I was missing a connection.

I knew that Akers had signed off on Harker's assignment to MCS, so I decided to give him a call and find out if he knew something that I didn't.

He wasn't a big fan of me, considering I'd cost him the pro-temp job.

Or rather, the Gorens had cost him that job.

But he'd landed on his feet in the Narcotics division, so I didn't think he held too much of a grudge.

Besides, it wasn't the Gorens' fault that he'd tried to bribe them into staying on with the department.

He had been acting too much like his predecessor and it had bitten him in the ass.

I got his voice mail, so I left a message. A nice, pleasant, how-the-hell-have-you-been kind of message, and then I made mention of Harker.

After that, I spent the next hour getting up to speed with cases that some of my other detectives were working on. I mean, I did have more than just Lupo and Bernard, and I couldn't let myself get distracted from my job simply because the case they were presently working involved me.

As one set of detectives left my office, I saw Mike and Carolyn come in and they had a woman in tow.

I pegged her to be A.J. Hemmings, since that's who they'd gone after.

Because the Logans tended to get their man.

Or woman, as the case may be.

Hemmings appeared to be a willing participant, although I noticed that she had a bloody lip.

Carolyn seemed slightly disheveled as well, but whatever had happened prior to their arrival at 1PP looked to be water under the bridge. Hemmings was talking animatedly as Mike guided her through the squad room in the direction of an interrogation room.

Carolyn caught my eye and gave me a look.

_Come and check this out_ was what the look said.

So I waited for them to get her into a room and then I left my office and headed for the observation room.

"Some kind of tool," Hemmings was saying when I turned on the speaker.

"How do you know that?" Carolyn asked her.

"He showed it to me. He said that it would cut down on the mess."

"We have evidence that shows Pebo killed Brubaker," Mike stated.

"Are you sure about that?" Hemmings asked him arrogantly.

I watched Mike as he looked at Carolyn and shrugged.

I think that they _were _pretty sure, but it never hurt to play along with a suspect when they were willing to talk.

"Okay, so if you knew that Harker was going to kill him, why didn't you report it before it happened?" Mike asked. "Or even right after? Why wait until now?"

"He threatened me. He said that if I went to the cops then he'd kill me."

"A.J., why did you write that article about Captain Ross?" Carolyn questioned.

"He made me."

"And Bernard? Your reason for going after him?"

"He told me that I could get the information I needed to write the article from him."

"He. Matt Harker," Logan clarified.

"Uh huh."

"Okay, so let me get this straight," he continued. "First, you pretended to have an interest in Detective Bernard so that you could pump him for information, then you wrote the article that brought Captain Ross' integrity into question, as well as that of our consulting business. You hid knowledge of a murder, you broke into our office, _and_ you conspired with a man to attempt the murder of the medical examiner, a crime which you set up to make it look like the ME was having an affair with one of our colleagues. And you did all of these things because Harker wanted you to."

"Yes," she admitted. "It's like…what do they call it? Stockholm syndrome."

I shook my head in disbelief as Mike and Carolyn looked at each other and then back at her.

"What was the reason for setting up the affair?"

"Matt said to do it like that."

"Yeah, yeah. We get that. But why?"

"He hates this Ross guy. And he'd heard that this Goren man had screwed Ross over before, that he'd slept with his wife years ago, and Matt knew that it would really cheese him off if he thought that Goren was doing it again."

"You realize that your little plan, if it had worked, was setting Goren up for the murder, right? You were going to send an innocent man to jail just to get revenge on another man?"

Hemmings just shrugged and looked at her nails.

"And it didn't bother you because you have Stockholm syndrome," Carolyn said dubiously.

"You know," Mike spoke up. "You've been with us for more than an hour now, and you haven't once asked about Pebo."

"Who?"

"The guy's whose apartment you were running from," Carolyn reminded her. "We were just talking about him a minute ago, remember?"

"I don't know any Pebo," she said with a dismissive wave. "I was staying with my friend Stacy."

"You don't know Pebo," Mike said, looking at Carolyn with an incredulous grin on his face. "Do you want to tell her, or should I?"

"Tell me what?" Hemmings asked in annoyance. "Just say it."

"You know Pebo," Carolyn told her. "Or at least, you have an intimate knowledge of _part_ of him."

"What are you talking about?"

"We found his jizz underneath the fingernail that you left in our office," Mike told her as he tapped her middle finger, the one with the broken nail. "And you know, that's very unsanitary. You should really wash your hands after something like that."

A noise in the room behind me pulled my attention from their interrogation, and I turned around to see that Lupo and Bernard had arrived with Harker.

I turned off the speaker for Hemmings' interview and instead turned on the one so that I could hear what he had to say.

"She is one crazy bitch, man."

"Hemmings," Lupo stated.

"Uh huh. She's got this idea that she can write a whole tell-all on the NYPD and it's going to make her career."

"She just coincidentally started with Captain Ross."

"Why is that a coincidence? He is head of Major Case," he replied snidely. "It's a good place to start."

"So the fact that you don't like him doesn't have anything to do with it."

"Hell no. In fact, I told her that she should go bigger, because Ross is nothing but a pansy-ass traitor, and he's not going to be around long enough for her article to even matter."

"A traitor?" Bernard asked, and I was glad that he did because it was an unusual choice of insults.

"That's right. He's an incompetent jackass who stepped all over those who helped him get to where he is. Do you think he _earned_ that job at MCS? Hell no. He ass-kissed his way into that spot and then he turned around and stabbed people in the back."

I forced myself to focus on the meaning behind his words. Where would he have gotten this information? I've been called a lot of things in my time, but no one who knew me doubted that I deserved my position.

Was it just that he was bitter, or was it something else?

"So despite all of that," Lupo said. "Hemmings wrote that article just to get ahead in the literary world."

"Right. And the last time I checked, it's not illegal."

"True. But attempted murder is illegal," Bernard said. "So we'll come back to that other stuff. Tell me why Pebo is saying that you asked him to kill Dr. Rodgers."

"I don't even know this Pebo, so how could I ask him to do anything?"

"It's funny that you don't know him, and yet your cell phone has made numerous calls to his."

"I tend to misdial."

"Cut the crap, Harker," Lupo said. "We know what's going on here. You want Ross to go down, so you tried to make it look like his wife was sleeping with another man, and then you tried to have her killed. But did you notice that I said tried? Because she's not dead. And we have Pebo. Which means we have the note that was an attempt to implicate her as an adulterer."

"So what? So the doc was cheating with Goren. Seems as though all of Ross' wives like Goren, huh? I bet that really gets him steamed," he said on a laugh. "It might even make him want to go track Goren down and get a little revenge."

"So that was your next step? You were going to try to kill Goren and make it look like Ross went crazy with jealousy? You were going to kill two people just to get even with Captain Ross?"

"No. _I_ wasn't going to kill anyone. I'm just helping you figure out what Hemmings did with her friend Pebo."

"But why in the world would they plot revenge on Ross? They didn't know him."

"She was pissed about the article. She said that he sent the dogs, and got her in trouble with her boss."

"What about Brubaker?"

"What about him? What does he have to do with any of this?"

"He knew what you guys were plotting. He was keeping track of you," Lupo said while Bernard pulled out a set of documents.

"Brubaker was paranoid. He thought he had a stalker. He was probably documenting UFOs and werewolf sightings, too."

"No, he wasn't tracking UFOs. But this _is_ really interesting," Bernard insisted, and he tossed one of the papers onto the table in front of Harker.

He picked it up with feigned disinterest and read over the text.

"I don't see my name on here," he said. "_He says_. _He_ could be anybody. For that matter, so can _she_. This doesn't prove shit."

"It proves that your neighbor was spying on you and then he turned up dead," Lupo said.

Harker scoffed, but didn't reply, so Bernard picked up the paper.

"_Fucking over two men. So what_?" he read aloud. "She says, _what has he ever done for you?_ And you say, _it doesn't matter. I owe him_. Who do you owe, Harker?"

"I don't owe anyone anything. That's not me."

"Who is it then?"

"How the hell should I know? Maybe it's this Pebo character. Why don't you ask A.J.?"

"So it's all Hemmings. You didn't have anything to do with anything."

"Nope," he said arrogantly, and then he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

Mike and Carolyn came into the observation room, both of them looking annoyed.

"She's pinning it all on Harker. What do they have?"

"He's putting it on her. If they can stick to their stories and we can't find any more evidence, we're all screwed. Each of them casts enough doubt so that neither of them will be found guilty."

I knocked on the glass to get Lupo and Bernard's attention.

"Oh, hey, there's your boss man now," Harker said. "You two better get hopping, or you might find yourselves in OCCB."

"This guy is a real piece of work," Lupo said when he met me in the observation room. "How did he ever get on with the department?"

"Some of the things he said…"' I mused thoughtfully. "And I don't mean the insults. He's getting his information from _somewhere_."

"What are you thinking, Cap?"

"I'm wondering about Moran."

"Moran? As in the former chief who's now in prison?" Bernard asked.

But Mike and Carolyn were both nodding.

"He's the one who started the story about Bobby and Nancy," Mike said. "And in his eyes, you turned on him when you helped Bobby evade the murder charges on that stripper."

"Right," I agreed. "That whole traitor bit is what got me thinking about it."

"But how would he even know him? Didn't Moran go to prison a couple of months ago? Harker would've just been moving here about that time."

They had a point.

It didn't fit, timeline-wise.

And really, did Moran hate me that much? He'd pretty much made his own bed when he got involved with that dancer. Surely he knew that.

"Okay, who else?" I questioned.

The five of us stood for a minute and tossed about ideas, and then my cell phone rang.

"Give me a minute," I said after checking my phone. "It's Akers."

"Danny, how the hell are you?" he boomed when I answered the phone. "What is all of that shit I hear going on over at MCS?"

"Nothing I can't handle," I told him, slightly annoyed at his condescending enjoyment of the current state of my department.

"Of course not! That's why you're going to be the new chief, right?"

"We'll see," I deflected. "So, I wanted to ask you about Matt Harker."

"Oh, right. I don't know much about the boy myself, but I brought him in as a favor."

"To whom?"

"Kenny. He said the kid needed a break."

"Kid? He's thirty-five years old. And how did Moran even know him?"

"You don't know?" he asked on a chuckle. "Danny, Moran is Harker's dad."

TBC...


	55. Chapter 55

**Bobby POV**

* * *

My first thought at finding the apartment empty was that the low-life Ted had lied to us.

Again.

And I guess it was Alex's first thought, too, because she pulled out her cell phone and while she dialed, she let out an impressive stream of curse words.

And as a testament to the amount of time she spent with me, she even threw in a few Italian swear words, too.

If I weren't so upset, I would've laughed.

But I was upset.

This was our best lead, our _only_ remaining lead, for finding Cathy.

So Alex made the call to Sean while I searched through the apartment for a sign of something, anything that might indicate that Cathy and Nate had been here.

"There's no one here," I heard her tell Sean. "I don't care what he tells you. He's lying. Get him to tell you the truth."

"Alex," I interrupted. I was standing in the kitchen with the lid of the trash can open.

"What is it?"

I reached down into the nearly-empty can and pulled out a cell phone. A disposable cell that was identical to the one that Helen had given us.

"They were here," I stated as I opened up the phone.

No calls had been made since her initial call to Ted yesterday. There was an incoming one from Ted that had occurred yesterday afternoon, presumably after we'd left him.

I closed the phone and put it into my pocket.

"Ask him where they would've gone from here," she immediately directed Sean.

I continued to wander around the apartment, and in the bathroom, I found that the shower stall was still wet.

"Ted swears that he doesn't know anything. Cathy was supposed to wait here for him," Alex told me as she came in the room, tucking her phone into her pocket.

"Shower's wet," I pointed out. "They were still here this morning."

"So where would she go?" Alex muttered, more to herself than to me.

I knew that she was frustrated and worried and felt partially to blame.

"Hey, I promised you, remember?" I said as I settled my hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We'll find them. I'm not done yet, are you?"

"No. No, I just…I don't know what's next," she admitted. "I don't know where to go."

"I'm thinking," I began as I tugged her towards me. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her what I hoped was a comforting hug. "That maybe she decided to go home. I mean, if she didn't, then why isn't she here? Why isn't she following instructions?"

"Cathy?" she said, barking out a laugh. "Following instructions?"

"You know what I'm saying," I insisted. "She did everything she was told up to this point, and now she's suddenly gone."

"You really think that maybe she's going back? I should check in with Steve."

"Okay," I agreed. I let go of her and we headed for the door. "And let's head in that direction. If we haven't heard from her by the time we get there, we'll talk with Steve and see if maybe he knows something and just doesn't realize it. A spot that's important to her, or a place that she always wanted to go."

"I should know that," she said.

"You're being too hard on yourself. She doesn't know those kinds of details about you. Why should you know them about her? Her husband should be her closest confidante."

"Well, let's find out if he is. Or, at least, if he was at some point."

We left the apartment and went back to the car. Alex called Steve, but he still hadn't heard from her, so we headed for their home.

"Where would you go?" I asked Alex after we'd been quiet for the first few minutes of the drive.

I'd realized that I wasn't sure of the answer and it suddenly seemed desperately important that I know.

"When?"

"If you needed to get away. Where would you go?"

"That's easy," she answered. She brought the car to a stop at a red light and then she turned to look at me. "Anywhere that you were."

"But what if it's me that you need to get away from?"

"I don't see that happening."

"Alex…"

"How many years did it take me to get to you?" she interrupted, reaching across the seat to rub her palm along my cheek.

"I don't know. A lot," I admitted.

"Exactly. Too many. So if there's going to be any running going on, we'll be doing it together. And then it won't matter where we are, will it?"

I turned into her hand and kissed her palm before she removed it and put it back on the steering wheel.

Her words had served to ease my sudden and irrational fear that I didn't know the answer.

I knew the answer.

Her phone rang after another few minutes, and since she was driving, I reached over and pulled it from her pocket.

"It's Lupo," I told her, and then I answered the phone on speaker.

"You've got both of us," I said.

"Did you find Cathy?" he asked, and I appreciated that he was willing to table whatever his purpose had been for the call in order to check on our personal lives. He was a good guy.

"Not yet," I admitted. "We're going to talk to Steve and see if we can pick his brain for a bit."

"You know that Travis is getting out, right?"

"Yeah, Connie called," Alex replied. "How's it going with Harker?"

"We brought him in. He's denying knowledge of any wrongdoing."

"Of course he is," Alex replied sarcastically. "And he doesn't know how his number ended up in Pebo's phone, right?"

"That's what he's saying," Lupo said. "But it gets better."

"What else?"

"Guess who his old man is?"

"Don't keep us in suspense," Alex said. "Who is it?"

"Moran."

"Oh my God. Well, that does explain a lot, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, and I was going to ask a favor of you, but if you're still busy…"

"What do you need?"

"Me and Bernard are still going at Harker, and the Logans are in another room with Hemmings, but so far they're pointing fingers at each other. We need someone to talk to Moran."

Alex stopped at another light and looked over at me. Silent words passed between us while Lupo awaited our response.

"I can take the subway," she said aloud to me. "If anyone can get him to talk, it's you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll talk to Steve while you handle Moran. Then we'll meet back up and track down any leads I can get."

She pulled the car over along the curb about a block from 238th Street Station.

"Lupo, Bobby will head out to Rikers now. Have Ross call ahead and make the arrangements," Alex told him.

"Great," he replied enthusiastically. "Let me know."

We hung up with him as she unbuckled her seat belt.

"I'm not sure I like this," I said.

"What, splitting up?"

"I'm just abandoning you on the side of the road," I said.

In a move similar to what she'd done before, she turned toward me and put her hand on my cheek. Only this time, she brought her other hand up as well and then kissed me firmly.

"You're not abandoning me. We're dividing our resources. If Moran is behind this whole thing with Ross and Liz…well, you'll get it out of him. Get him to finger Harker so that they can make the arrest and be done with it. We need to know that we've got the right people so that we can be sure that Liz's life is no longer in danger."

"And what about you?"

"I know how to ride the subway, Bobby," she said with a smile. "I'll talk to Steve. Call me when you finish up at Rikers and we'll re-evaluate where we are, okay?"

I gave her a slow nod, not crazy about the idea, but at the same time, intrigued to have a sit-down with Moran.

He was Harker's father?

Did that mean that he was pulling Harker's strings, orchestrating revenge from behind bars?

Was he C-Dog?

"Go," she said, kissing me once more and then getting out of the car. I got out, too, and met her around the front, where she gave me a quick hug and added, "Be brilliant and put the screws to Moran."

**

* * *

**

Steve POV

I didn't sleep a wink all night.

I kept thinking about what I would need to do to get my family back.

And I don't mean just finding them. I trusted Alex and Bobby to do that.

I meant _get them back_.

Both of them.

Anything less was unacceptable.

Cathy belonged with me.

She still loved me. I was pretty sure about that.

And I definitely still loved her.

It had been my wounded pride that had caused me to lash out at her after seeing Travis.

Why didn't I just let her talk?

She hadn't been angry or hostile with me.

She'd been upset and begged for me to listen, but I…I just didn't.

I'd left her standing there.

What kind of man did that?

But I'd certainly had plenty of time to think about things.

And when she came back, the two of us were going to talk, really talk about things.

And if I ever saw that asshole Travis again, I was going to kill him.

Alex had checked in with me late last night to let me know about the pending APB. And that Cathy and Nate were safe for the night.

But still, I couldn't sleep.

Instead, I thought back to the times when I'd left for work without telling Cathy that I loved her, or how sometimes I'd been so tired when I got home that I just sat on the couch and mindlessly changed channels on the television.

But what about her?

Surely she'd come home from tired from work, but then she'd fixed dinner and played with Nate and got him ready for bed…all while I'd essentially ignored her.

No wonder she'd left me. I'd been completely taking her for granted. Of course, I didn't absolve her of everything. She had her issues, too, but I realized that I hadn't helped matters at all.

In fact, I'd added fuel to the fire.

The doorbell rang and pulled me from my thoughts.

I was on my sixth cup of coffee in as many hours, so I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound, and then I hurried for the door and practically pulled it from the hinges in my excitement to get it open.

My heart fell at the sight of Alex, alone.

Although did I really expect that Cathy would ring the doorbell? I didn't know anymore.

Alex had called earlier to ask if I'd heard from Cathy, but she didn't elaborate, and she hadn't mentioned that she was on her way over.

That couldn't be a good sign.

"Where is she?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure. You still haven't heard from her?"

"No. What happened?"

"We had a lead, but she was gone by the time we got there," she explained. "Um…can I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'm sorry. Where's Bobby?"

"He had to make a stop. He'll be here later. I thought maybe you and I could have a chat."

"What is it?" I asked.

My emotions were all over the place, and I had the sinking feeling that she knew something she wasn't telling me.

She didn't reply, but instead led the way into the kitchen. I watched from the doorway as she surveyed the room briefly before turning back to face me.

"You look like hell, Steve. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I keep thinking…I keep _rehashing_ everything that I should've done."

"Me, too."

"You?"

"Well, you're not the only one who wasn't talking to her."

She went to the coffee pot and picked it up, swirling the dregs of black liquid in the bottom for a moment before replacing it and going to the refrigerator instead.

"I can make some more," I offered.

"No," she said, pulling out a bottle of water. "I've probably had enough caffeine. You look like you have, too."

"Alex, tell me what you found."

So she told me about the car, and Ted, and the safe house.

"The phone was there," she said. "The one that she was given. So she was there. And I'm thinking that she wouldn't have left there unless she changed her mind."

"You think she's coming back," I stated, afraid to get my hopes up and yet hopeful all the same. "But why hasn't she called?"

"I don't know. But she loves you," she told me. "She just wanted things to be different. And when she thought that her chances of that were crushed because of Travis, well…I think she just panicked. But Cathy has a good head on her shoulders, when she decides to use it. I think that given the opportunity to ruminate on what happened, she'd see that it was the wrong thing to do."

"So now what?"

"Well, it's kind of going to be a waiting game. But while we wait, tell me about where she liked to go when she needed to clear her head."

I looked at my sister-in-law as she sat at my kitchen table and I felt a rush of emotion.

She was in my corner.

And she'd been holding the rest of her family at bay while this drama played out.

Well, except for Sean.

But Kevin and Johnny…they didn't know much yet. I mean, they knew that we were having issues, and that we'd separated, but they certainly didn't know details.

Because if they thought that I'd been an absentee husband to Cathy, they'd have shown up on my doorstep with shotguns.

But Alex was supporting me and Cathy both.

"I know you're not crazy about me," I said. "So I really appreciate how helpful you've been."

"What do you mean?" she asked me.

"Come on, Alex. You've never really been a fan. And that's okay. I'm just glad that you see how much I love Cathy, and that even though I've made mistakes in the past, that doesn't mean that I don't want what's best for her. I mean, sometimes people screw up, right? I just want my family back."

"I know you do," she said carefully. "It's not my job to judge your marriage."

"No, but I didn't stand up for you when I should have, so I'm not sure that I deserve your loyalty."

And that was what it boiled down to. It wasn't a secret why I wasn't her favorite person.

I'd known during her first marriage that Joe was stepping out on her but I'd never said a word. I'd sat back and let it happen.

She didn't pretend not to know what I was talking about. I liked that about Alex.

Easy or hard, she rarely shied away from an honest conversation.

"You just put your loyalty into the wrong person," she said with a small smile. "And that's okay. It happens."

"Yeah, but I knew he was cheating on you and I knew it was wrong, but I still…I never said anything. In fact, I even covered for him sometimes."

"I know you did," she said. "And I knew what he was doing, almost from the beginning, so you telling me wouldn't have changed much."

"Still…"

"It's over, Steve. And I'll admit that it's probably what made me keep you at a distance, but recently I've realized that we're not those people any more, and what happened back then is just part of our past."

She held my gaze as I sat down at the table across from her, and I covered her hand with mine.

"I'm glad that you have Bobby. He's a good man," I told her. "Much better than Joe ever was."

"Yes he is. Now if you can just convince my dad of that…" she replied and then she shook her head. "But…whatever. Okay, so, tell me. Where did Cathy like to go when she was stressed out, or if you two had gotten into a fight?"

"I've got a couple of ideas," I said after I thought about it for a minute. "Want to go for a drive?"

TBC...


	56. Chapter 56

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I've been in Rikers too many times to count, although fortunately for me, never as a resident.

Of course, if Moran had his way, I'd be here right now, sitting in prison for murder.

And drug charges.

And anything else he could throw at me with enough glue to stick.

Hell, if that man had his way, I'd have been fired from the department in a fanfare of disgrace and dishonor back after that Tates thing.

So why it surprised me to learn that he was somehow involved with this was a mystery to me.

In fact, he should've been my first thought.

The man had maintained a hard-on for me for the past half-decade.

And it had to really get him fired up to know that I'd prevailed. I'd reached for the brass ring, and I'd grabbed onto it with both hands, at least personally if not professionally.

But in both aspects, really.

And the personal was obvious, but the professional, well…I had a job which I loved doing that more than paid the bills.

How many people could say that?

As expected, Ross had paved the way for my visit, so it was just a matter of procedure to get through the front door. I checked my weapon and other various personal effects at the desk and then waited to be buzzed into an interview room.

I wished that I had Alex with me.

I mean, I could do this alone.

I would be fine doing it alone.

But I'd _rather_ do it with her. She always managed to keep me calm and focused, and I had a feeling that I was really going to need that today.

"Detective Goren," Moran said when I entered the interview room.

I didn't correct him, mostly because my title was irrelevant but also partly because I was shocked by his appearance.

Two months of hard time had changed him.

"How are you, Chief?" I asked with forced politeness, extending my hand. "Or should I call you C-Dog?"

"Why the hell would you call me that?" he asked gruffly, although he shook my hand.

"You tell me," I said as I sat down.

"I'm not in the mood for your games. If it had been up to me, we wouldn't be meeting at all because I don't have a damn thing to say to you," he said as he eyeballed me with blatant disdain. Then he shrugged and added, "But they like to take choices away from guys like me, so here I am. Now if you have something you want to ask me, then ask."

"Am I keeping you from your hour in the yard?"

"What do you want, Goren?"

"Information about your son," I began. "He's in some trouble, and I thought that maybe you could help."

"My son," he repeated. "I've got five of them, so you're going to have to be a little more specific than that."

"Matt Harker. You pulled some strings to get him a job in MCS. Was that so that he could keep an eye on Captain Ross?"

"Yeah, so what? Danny's a wishy-washy little prick who hung me out to dry at the first opportunity. Can you blame me for being interested in a little payback?"

I was taken aback by the amount of anger that rolled through me at his obvious hatred of Ross, but I kept my cool.

"You mean he worked to get to the bottom of that murder investigation instead of taking your word for it? You were pinning me for it, if I recall correctly."

He sat back in his chair and stared at me without remorse.

"I thought it would be an easy sell. I mean, Ross bought that you were banging Nancy, right?"

"That's right. He did. He trusted you."

"Boo fucking hoo. What does all of this have to do with Matt?"

"He's putting the screws to Ross. I guess we have you to thank for that. I guess this is that payback you were talking about, right?"

I watched his face carefully as he absorbed my news but I was having trouble getting a read on him.

Gone was the pasty-faced dough boy who once ran the department. The man I was looking at now was hardened and indifferent.

Mostly.

"What is it that you think he's done?"

"He orchestrated an attempted murder, among other things."

"Attempted? Well, that's not my son then. If _my_ son set out to kill someone, he'd be dead," he declared, although his bravado was forced. I could tell that he didn't like that idea.

"She," I corrected.

So Moran didn't know about Liz.

That was interesting.

"What?"

"He tried to kill Dr. Rodgers."

"Liz?" he asked in alarm.

And here was that weakness that I knew had been lurking somewhere.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought highly of the resident ME. And his use of her first name was very telling.

"That's right. He sent a felon, someone he probably met through you, to rape and kill her."

I hated saying the words, but bluntness would probably help my cause.

Because I was pretty damn sure by this point that Moran knew nothing about this.

Whether he knew about the other stuff remained to be seen, but even if he did, Harker had gone off on his own when he'd targeted Liz.

"Why? What makes you think that he's involved?"

"She's Ross' wife. He's after Ross," I explained carefully. "He got a guy to go after her and they set it up to make it look like me. To make it look like I'd been having an affair with her. Does that sound at all familiar to you?"

"Is she okay?" he asked me.

"Yeah. She's great. She killed the guy."

"Who? Who was it?"

"You tell me," I said. "Harker's been here to see you. I checked the visitor's log. Did you give him contact information on an old buddy?"

"No," he said distractedly. "No, I didn't. And I didn't know about this."

"Any of it? Or just the attack on Liz?"

"Any of it!"

"So, what…he's just trying to avenge you for the hell of it? Please. You asked him to get payback on Ross…on me…you want vengeance so bad you can taste it and who better to get it for you than your son?"

"It's not….he's not…" he began, and then he trailed off and ran his hand over his face. "What do you have on him?"

"Right now, not enough," I replied honestly.

"Then why would I want to help you?"

I was glad that he'd asked that, because his question meant that he _could_ help me.

It was just a matter of convincing him to do the right thing. Maybe a tough sell to a guy like him, but I felt confident that I could pull it off.

"You know, I was in your office quite a few times back when you were chief," I said conversationally.

"That's because you liked to break the rules."

"Is that why you told Ross that I was sleeping with his wife? Was that your way of making sure that my boss kept me under his thumb?"

"Are you still on that? Get over it, Detective. That was years ago."

"Oh, I'm not upset about it. Just curious as to your motivation."

"I didn't want Ross to be blinded by your solve rate. I needed him on my side."

"Still…you could've just taken him out for a beer or something. You had to tell him that I'd been the cause of his marriage collapsing?"

He shrugged and maintained eye contact with me, almost daring me to keep poking at the topic.

And that's when it hit me.

"It's because it was you, wasn't it? _You_ were sleeping with Nancy. You needed to provide a little misdirection."

"You are good, Goren. I'll give you that," he said with a smile. "Yeah, I was having a thing with Nancy. The affair started before he got moved under my command, and I'll admit, it made me a little bit paranoid. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone. By telling him it was you, then I knew he'd keep you on a tight leash, and he'd quit wondering about who it might have been that had caught Nancy's eye."

"That's actually pretty smart," I conceded. "It never occurred to me until just now that it was you. I'd say that your plan worked."

"Thank you, Detective."

"I'm going to take it a step farther and say that you have a thing for Dr. Rodgers, too, don't you? I mean, you were probably screwing with Ross when you told him that he couldn't get married, but then once he started dating Liz, you got serious about it. Because you didn't want him to have her. That's why it upset you so much to learn that your son tried to have her killed, right?"

He didn't reply, but instead fidgeted in his chair for a minute.

"That bothers you, doesn't it?" I continued. "To think that your son is a killer. To think that he's just like you."

"I am not a killer," he insisted. "Ginger was an accident."

"I believe that. I do. But then you went through great lengths to try to cover it up. And look where that got you. You're in a whole lot more trouble now than you would've been. And that's exactly what Matt's trying to do. He's going to go down for what he's done. The only question is, how far?"

"You said you don't have enough evidence," he replied weakly.

"We don't. Not yet. But it's just a matter of time. We have his accomplice. Or, one of them anyway. The other one is dead. But you know what else we have? His neighbor in Chevy Chase was extremely paranoid, and he must have overheard a conversation between Matt and the woman who's helping him. He began documenting everything. He followed them and kept detailed logs."

"If you have that, then why do you need me?"

"We're still deciphering them. The files were encrypted. We're hoping that we can take Matt off the streets before he has the chance to hurt someone else. Someone like Liz, maybe. Because you know how much your son hates Ross."

"I don't know what I can tell you," he said, sighing heavily and running his hand over his bald head. "I swear to you, I did not ask him to do this. I didn't ask him to set you up for anything, and I'd certainly never ask him to hurt Liz."

"Okay. For some reason, I think I believe you," I said. "And we got off track earlier. I mentioned that I spent some time in your office.

"Right."

"So tell me why I never saw a picture of Harker in there. You have five sons and two daughters. They were all in photographs somewhere in your office. All of them except him."

"I didn't meet him until about four months ago," he admitted. "His mother and I had a one-night stand thirty-some years ago. She told me about him, about his existence, but I never went to see him. Once a year, I'd get a cashier's check and mail it to her, but that was it. My wife doesn't know about him. Four months ago, he showed up at my office and asked me if I could help him out. He wanted to get on with the NYPD."

"But that was about the time that you were caught up in the mess with Ginger Barnes."

"Right. I talked to him a few times, but I was in plenty of trouble, so I never did anything about the job. Then one day, I'm in here and I get word that I have a visitor."

"So he visited you in prison to ask you about a job?"

"Apparently his mother had married a man who wasn't interested in raising another man's son. Matt said that he'd missed out on having a father while growing up, but that it wasn't too late. He said that he didn't mind coming to prison. He wanted to know everything about me."

I felt my mind stutter at his words and I wondered if Moran knew how closely to home he'd hit.

_A man who wasn't interested in raising another man's son_.

That was my father, wasn't it?

Had that been the final straw for him?

He'd learned that I wasn't his biological son and so when faced with the option of doing the right thing or walking away, he'd simply walked away?

"So…um…you…um…" I began, and then I forced my personal thoughts from my head.

_Now was not the time_.

"You told him," I said firmly, gathering my resolve to get through this interview. "You told him about Ross and me, and you probably embellished a little bit so that everything seemed like someone else's fault rather than your own, right?"

"He's my son," he said with a shrug. "I wanted him to be proud to be my son, not ashamed because his old man was in prison."

"And you got him the job in MCS. You thought it would be good for his career, and you'd have insider's scoop on what Ross was up to."

"Yeah, only that prick Ross gave him the boot before he even got to show him what he could do."

"And I'm sure you told Matt about what a jerk Ross is, and how he deserved to be paid back for every bad thing he'd ever done, to you and to him, right? And I'm sure you mentioned me, your sworn enemy, and how it was my fault that you're in prison. And how you couldn't understand why Ross would help me, because I'd broken up his previous marriage."

Moran glared at me for a minute, but then he gave me a sharp nod. He put his hands down on the table and leaned over it.

"But I didn't tell him to actually _do _anything. I was just blowing off steam with him, you know? I was letting him vent, and commiserating with what had happened to him. I didn't know he'd try to kill Liz."

"Well, he did. And he killed the neighbor who was spying on him."

"Did _he_ do it? Did he actually kill someone?"

"We think that his accomplice did it. The recently paroled felon from Rikers."

"Pebo," he said knowingly.

"So you _did_ introduce him to your friend."

"I told Matt about him. He'd looked out for me when I first got here. He'd called me C-Dog because he knew that I'd been the Chief of D's. Matt tried to call me that a couple of times, but I told him to knock it off. I said that you don't need an alias if you're not doing anything wrong. I was trying to teach him something. I wanted him to be better than me. And I wanted…I wanted to know that he'd still turned out okay even though I used to pretend that he didn't exist."

"Well, when Pebo got out, Matt looked him up. He was trying to ruin Ross' life. He wanted him to lose his job, his wife, his friends…"

"What do you need from me?" he asked, his voice filled with defeat.

"I need you to establish the connection between Matt and Pebo."

"Okay," he agreed slowly. "Okay. But I need something from you."

"What?"

"I need to talk to him. If I talk to him, and get him to confess, will you put in a recommendation for a lighter sentence?"

"I know an ADA," I agreed with a nod. "I'll do the best that I can."

TBC...


	57. Chapter 57

**Connie POV**

* * *

I couldn't let it go.

The idea that Travis was going to be out of jail again was driving me crazy, and I was having trouble concentrating on my work.

This was my fault.

This was karma for the fact that I hadn't charged my own abusive boyfriend all those years ago.

How many women had he hurt after me?

I really felt like I needed to do _some_thing, but I wasn't sure what. I mean, no one even knew where Cathy was at the moment, so I had to think that she was safe from him.

Or _was_ she?

Was she going to meet up with him?

How many women couldn't follow through with the charges against their abuser?

I didn't know her that well. Was she so brain-washed by him that she'd taken her son away from his father with the plan of meeting up with Travis again after he got out?

"Connie, I need those witness statements from the Staples case," Mike called out to me.

"I don't have them ready yet," I admitted.

_Because my mind has been wandering_, I chastised.

"Is everything okay?" he asked me, coming fully out of his office so that he could talk in a quieter tone of voice. "Detective Lupo…"

"Everything's fine," I said quickly, only slightly irritated that he would jump to the conclusion that Lupo was involved with my inability to work. "We're fine. I'm just frustrated about losing that motion this morning."

"If you want to take some time and follow up on it, see if maybe you can find a mistake in the motion and get it heard again, that would be okay with me," he offered.

"No, I know we're busy here," I said. But then I stopped and shook my head. He was right. I wasn't going to get anything done like this. "Yeah, you know what? That would be really great. Just a couple of hours, okay?"

Because then I could try to track down his old girlfriends.

Hell, what would be even better is if I went to track _him_ down.

For the purpose of what, I wasn't sure, but if I was watching him, then at least I could make sure that he wasn't meeting up with Cathy, right?

Maybe I should start with that.

Because I couldn't let anything happen to her.

Especially not since he was out because of me.

"Take what you need," Mike assured me. "Today. Tomorrow, I need your head back in the game."

"Absolutely," I said. "And thank you."

So I left the office and as I waited on the street to catch a cab, I called to check on Travis' status.

"He left about forty-five minutes ago," the officer informed me. "Is there a problem with his release?"

"No. No, it's fine," I told him. I hung up the phone and put it back in my purse.

_Yeah, there's a problem_, I thought.

He shouldn't be a free man.

A taxi pulled alongside the curb after only another minute, so I got in it and gave the driver Travis' home address.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

My cell phone rang three times while I rode with Steve to look for Cathy, but each time I checked the display, I saw that it was my father, so I ignored it.

I would deal with him, but not right now.

Later.

But then it rang a fourth time and it was Kevin.

"Shit, he's really on the scent now," I muttered as I silenced my phone yet again.

"Your dad?"

"Yeah. He must have told Kevin that something was wrong. He never normally calls me in the middle of the work day."

"You think he's harassing Bobby, too?"

"Probably, but Bobby's at Rikers, so his phone will be at the security desk. I'm sure he'll have a dozen missed calls by the time he's done."

"Why don't you just talk to him?" he asked calmly. "I don't want to be responsible for a rift in the family. Any more than I already am, anyway. Maybe it would just be better if you explained the situation to him."

"He doesn't need to know the details of your marital crisis," I defended. "He'll try to make it his business."

"Isn't it though?"

"He won't understand. He'll blame her for everything and then if you try to take some responsibility, then he'll turn on you, too."

"But he's going to hear about it eventually. We can't hide this whole thing from him."

"No, but we can censor it somewhat. He doesn't have to know every little tawdry detail. But if he hears about it while she's still missing…I don't know. I'm just trying…I'm trying to keep someone in good standing with him. He hates Bobby for God knows what reason, and he's disappointed in me for my choices, both career and personal, and there's no reason for him to feel as though _both_ of his daughters have let him down."

"You're trying to protect her."

"Yes."

"And him," he added. "You want to make him proud, even if it's through her instead of you."

"Yeah, I guess so. Although he did accuse her of having an affair with Bobby, but I think that was more as a shot to Bobby than to her."

"He accused her of that? Why?"

So I told him about what had happened Saturday night.

"She didn't tell you?" I asked him when I'd finished.

"No."

"So you spent all afternoon together Sunday, and yet that never came up?" I pressed, now unable to hold back the smirk.

"Well, so maybe we didn't do all that much talking," he admitted with a wry grin. "Are you okay with that?"

"Am I okay with my sister sleeping with her husband?"

"Are you okay with the possibility of us getting back together? I mean, obviously we've had a setback, but ultimately that's what I want to do. I want her back."

"Yeah, I'm okay with that. I'm better than okay with that."

My phone rang again, and since it wasn't Bobby's ring tone, I just reached in my pocket and hit the silence button.

If I could just ignore them for a few more hours, then we'd find Cathy and then we could have one great big family powwow.

_And won't that be fun._

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

Bernard and I worked Harker over for awhile, and then we left him alone to stew for a bit.

He was steadfast with his story, so we were both hoping that Bobby would gather us some insight from Moran.

And actually, I would've loved to be a fly on the wall in that visitation room to watch how Bobby worked him over.

I'd have to settle for a recount later.

I hadn't talked to Connie for a few hours, so when we took a break from Harker, I pulled out my phone to give her a call.

The phone rang in my hand before I could dial. I couldn't help but smile when I saw that it was Connie.

We were on the same wavelength.

"I was just getting ready to call you," I said by way of greeting.

"Lupo," she said, and her voice cracked. "I think maybe I screwed up."

"What is it?" I asked quickly.

That was not a sentence that usually came from her lips, so I was instantly on the alert due to her words and her tone.

"I…I left the office. I wanted to keep track of Travis."

"You were following him?" I asked loudly. I felt temper run through me, but it was more due to fear than anger.

"Yes. I just…I wanted to make sure that…that he wasn't going to meet Cathy. I know she's still missing, and I was afraid that maybe she was going to meet him. Or that he might know where she was. So I thought that it would be a good idea."

"_Not_ a good idea," I fired back, grabbing my coat from my chair. "Connie, that's not your job. It's dangerous. You could get hurt."

I heard her suck in a shaky breath, and that was when the real panic hit me.

"Are you hurt?" I asked her.

"Um…a little, but…"

"What happened?"

I couldn't wait for the elevator.

I had to get out of there and get to the car so that when I found out where she was I would be able to get to her more quickly.

I didn't realize that Bernard was on my heels until he yelled at me just as I opened the stairwell door.

"Lupes!"

I turned around and saw that he had the elevator. It must have arrived as soon as I'd given up on it.

I hustled back to him as I listened to Connie's story.

"I went to his apartment, but I couldn't be sure if he was there or not, so I went in. And then I decided that it would be better if he knew that I was watching because that would make him less likely to try something, right? I mean, isn't that what you guys do sometimes? You let the person know that you're watching?"

"Yeah," I agreed softly, because she obviously needed reinforcement that her idea had been solid.

And it would've been if it hadn't been…_her_.

"So I knocked, and he answered, and then he started talking about harassment and how he was going to bring me up on charges, and then he shoved me even though I was still standing out in the hallway, and I guess I started having flashbacks or something, I don't know because it just made me so mad that I pushed him back. And he stumbled into the doorway, and so then I pushed him again, and I started yelling at him, asking him if he knew where Cathy was, and he said that he didn't but he was going to find her because she was his. _His_, Lupo. He said that she was his, like she's some kind of property or something, and so then I…I…"

"You what?" I asked.

My mind was racing to keep up, especially since it had stumbled when she mentioned flashbacks and I had no idea to what she would be having flashbacks, but now wasn't the time to get hung up on that.

Now I just needed to know if she was okay.

"Well, he touched me," she said, and I felt my blood start to boil.

By this time, Bernard and I were in the parking garage and he held out his hand for the keys but I waved him off and got in behind the wheel.

"Just on the arm," she continued. "But it was…I don't know…it felt slimy and suggestive, and I moved away and said that I'd be keeping an eye on him and that he needed to stay away from her, and then he grabbed a hold of my arm and said that he was going to call the cops and have a restraining order taken out on _me_, but he wouldn't let go of me, so then I punched him."

"You did _what_?" I nearly shouted as I barreled out of the parking garage and onto the busy street.

I put the siren on, even though I still wasn't exactly sure where I was going. But I started in the direction of Travis' address.

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't sound like me, does it? But I did, and it just made him madder, and so then he hit me back, but…I didn't go down, Lupo. I mean, I backed up a couple of steps, but I didn't…I didn't go down."

"Connie," I said softly.

I didn't know what else to say along with that.

I realized then that there was more to her that I needed to learn.

The way she said that…_something_ had happened to her, and I mentally berated myself for not pushing the issue when I first considered it, back when I'd first told her about Cathy and Travis.

And if something like that had happened to her, then how could I be upset with her for getting carried away with this case?

How could I be upset with her anyway when all she was doing was trying to protect Cathy from getting hurt any more than she already had been?

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" I asked, mindless of the inappropriate term of endearment in front of my partner.

Hell, as if that mattered at all when I'd just walked out of 1PP without a word to my boss and we had a suspect still in an interrogation room.

"Yeah, but Lupo…he got past me. He shoved me again, and went past me, so I followed him outside, but he got in his car, and my cab hadn't waited for me like he was supposed to, so…he's gone, and I don't know where he went, and I really pissed him off."

"You're still outside of his building?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly calm. I guess she felt a little better now that she'd gotten her story out.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

TBC...


	58. Chapter 58

**Logan POV**

* * *

I was sick to death of banging my head against a wall with Hemmings.

She kept singing the same tune, but with her it was slightly different than with Harker.

With her, we had physical evidence.

She'd written the note that had been found on Peter Boyer. Or at the very least, she'd touched it after it was written.

And we had proof that she'd been in our office.

Although she tried to play that off in the most colorful of ways.

"Yeah, I was in your office. I wanted to hire a private investigator."

"So you broke in through the fire escape at ten o'clock at night and, when no one was there to help you, you trashed the place?" I asked her.

"No. I didn't trash the place. I was there earlier. In the afternoon. In Goren's office. That must have been when I broke my nail."

"You were in Goren's office. Why?"

"I told you. I needed an investigator."

"So you hired Goren."

"Yes."

"So we'll find documentation that shows you are an official client."

"Well, no not really. Okay, see I was going to, but then we never got around to that. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I thought he was pretty cute, and I guess the feeling was mutual, so…"

"So you fooled around in his office," Carolyn supplied.

"Yeah," she answered sheepishly. "I don't usually do things like that, but…"

"While his wife was in the office next door," I said.

"Well, yeah. I guess. I mean, he did tell me that I'd have to be quiet. And he had me lock the door."

"You know that we found Peter Boyer's semen on that broken nail, right? So you were with him…you were with Goren…"

"I'm not easy or anything," she insisted. "It was just…I don't know. Animal magnetism."

"Okay, A.J.," Carolyn said. "I've got to tell you. There are like at least three things wrong with that assertion."

"Three things?" I questioned, a smile playing on my lips.

"No, you're right. Four," Carolyn corrected.

"Five," I said.

"Oh, you think that he wouldn't sleep with me?" Hemmings yelled when she realized that we were making fun of her.

"Not only do I think that he wouldn't sleep with you, but he's not going to sleep with any woman other than his wife. Aside from that, he wouldn't do it in the office, he wouldn't do it with his wife down the hall, and he wouldn't do it with someone who tried to smear his friend's reputation. But you know what the most easily proven fact is that debunks your claim?"

"What?"

"He and his wife work in the _same_ office. Even though hers is technically down the hall, they work together in his."

"And do you know what else?" Carolyn added. Hemmings just stared at her, so she continued. "He wasn't even _in_ the office on Monday afternoon. He and his wife left around lunch time and they didn't come back."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," Carolyn agreed. "So let me get this straight. You wrote a letter that made it seem as though Goren was having an affair with Dr. Rodgers. And then you try to tell us that he was having an affair with you. You know, you could try to be a little more original. Sometimes a person's motive has nothing to do with sex. Did you consider that? I mean, if you wanted an explanation for a broken nail in the office, you could've said that you were there because you wanted to hire him, but he wouldn't agree to take the case, and somehow your fingernail ended up behind his desk beneath his overturned office chair."

"No, that won't work," I told Carolyn. "Because he was gone, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right. He was already gone. So let's see…what you need is a plausible explanation for that fingernail, right? Gosh, you know, I just have no idea."

"You know what? I think I want my lawyer now."

"I believe that is the smartest thing you've said all day," I told her. "Make sure he knows there are federal charges pending, too. Your little stunt with that social security number has landed you in trouble with the feds, too."

So we left Hemmings in the room, and found out that Harker was alone in his room as well.

"Where are Lupo and Bernard?" I asked Ross when we found him in his office.

He looked up sharply, out across the squad room.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Is Harker still in the interrogation room?"

"Yeah, and Hemmings lawyered up."

"Have you heard back from Bobby?"

"No, but I'll call him now and see if he's finished up yet."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

_Travis had hit Connie_.

That statement was on a permanent loop in my head.

I was going to have to kill him.

After I'd hung up with her, I told Bernard about what had happened.

"Is she okay?"

"She said that she is. But she's not a cop. She doesn't get physical with people or know how to take a punch. Damn it, she's an attorney. What the hell was she thinking, following that guy?"

"She was thinking that she could help. It wasn't really a bad idea, Lupes."

"It _wasn't_ a bad idea? She approached him! She knocked on his door, knowing his propensity for getting violent with women. Don't take her side in this."

"Are there sides? Are you really going to go pick her up and then yell at her for doing what she thought was right?"

His tone of voice clearly told me that I was being an idiot.

And maybe I was.

But damn it, I was scared thinking about all of the things that could've happened.

What if he'd jerked her into his apartment?

No one knew where she was.

He could've had his way with her while I was sitting at 1PP with my thumb up my ass.

"She's around cops all of the time," he continued. "Hell, she's living with one. Did you think that it wouldn't make her start thinking like one from time to time?"

"You're right," I forced myself to say as my adrenaline level reduced from something like a geyser to more like a broken fire hydrant.

"No, hell, what do I know? Maybe you're right. I mean, she shouldn't have put herself into a difficult situation. She doesn't have the savvy for that, does she?"

"What? Yes she does," I argued.

"Well, okay maybe the savvy, but not the guts. She needs to stay in the courtroom or in the bedroom, right? I mean, she's not tough enough to be out on the street like that."

"Hey," I said menacingly. He was really going to sit there and insult her? "What the hell? She's tougher than that, and you know it. She's got more courage than half of the cops I know, and she didn't even hesitate when it came time to find out if the guy was there, she just marched straight into that building and knocked on the door with complete disregard for her own safety, just so that she could ensure the safety of someone else. She was brave and fearless and she stood her ground."

"Huh. Oh yeah. I guess you're right."

And there he had me. I glanced over at him and saw that his knowing smirk was firmly in place.

The man had just gotten me to have my own argument, all by myself.

Truth was, I wasn't mad at Connie.

I wasn't mad at her at all.

I was terrified by the worst-case scenarios that had stormed through my brain.

"I bet you think you're pretty damn smart, don't you?" I said at last as I finally allowed myself to breathe.

Worst-case scenarios could've happened.

But they hadn't.

Because she'd stood up to him.

She'd punched him.

_My_ Connie.

That thought was a little mind boggling.

I mean, she was tough. I wasn't lying about that. But I couldn't imagine her slugging anyone.

I wondered if she was seeing Travis when she did that or whoever this faceless man was who had hurt her in her past.

She and I were definitely going to have to have a chat.

About that, and about this.

Because the next time the least she could do was call me first.

Not so that I could try to talk her out of it, but so that I could back her up.

"There she is," Bernard pointed out as we neared Travis' place. She was sitting along a low wall about half a block from the apartment building.

My anger was completely gone by the time I illegally parked the car in front of the building.

"Thanks," I said to Bernard as I unbuckled. "Just give us a minute."

I hopped out and went over to her. She saw me at the last minute, and stood up.

Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and the area at the corner of her right eye was mottled and red.

"I'm sorry," she told me. "I know that was stupid."

"It wasn't," I told her as I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly up against me. "It was the most courageous thing…"

"You're not mad?"

"Why in the world would I be mad at you for standing up for what you believe in? I was just scared. I'm so glad that you're okay."

"Well, I may be okay, but I lost him. And he was really worked up…I'm sure that he's going after her."

"It's not your fault. Besides, if Alex can't find her, then how will he?"

**

* * *

**

Cathy POV

I was surprised to see that my house was empty, but what did I expect?

That Steve would just be sitting inside, staring at the door and waiting for me to come home?

No, but I guess that maybe I did think that he'd be watching for Nate.

Although, if I was honest with myself, he was probably out looking.

I'd kicked myself a few times for leaving that disposable cell phone behind in the apartment because I hadn't been able to call anyone to tell them where I was, but at the same time, I hadn't wanted Ted to try to call me.

I didn't want to explain to him that I was quitting and that I'd wasted his time and resources.

I'd just wanted to go home.

And now that I was here, I could call Steve.

I felt instantly nauseous and exhilarated by the thought.

"Can I take the laptop up to my room?" Nate asked me as we walked through the deserted living room.

He was six and yet he was better with a computer than me. There were short cuts on the desktop for the websites that he was allowed to visit, and I trusted him to follow the rules.

"Sure," I agreed. The computer would keep him occupied for awhile.

It would give me a chance to try to explain things to Steve.

"Thanks," he called out as he sprinted for the laptop and then hustled up the stairs.

I was grateful that our little adventure had not seemed to bother him at all. In fact, he seemed perfectly fine.

I stood in the now-quiet room and looked around.

Would Steve give me the chance to explain? Would he be willing to listen? Or would he toss me out on my ass and never forgive me for the past twenty-four hours?

Hell, longer than that. I'd been messing up our marriage for awhile now.

I took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. This kitchen where we'd made love only two days ago.

Twice, in fact. And we'd barely managed to put ourselves together before Alex and Bobby had returned with Nate.

But it had been fun, kind of like we were sharing a secret.

And then Monday had to happen.

Damn Travis for doing that.

And damn me for bringing him into our lives in the first place.

_Get over it, Cathy_, I told myself. _What's done is done. Move forward_.

I took another deep breath and reached for the phone, but that was when I heard the front door open. I dropped my hand and closed my eyes, searching deep inside of myself for the strength to do what needed to be done, and then I turned and went into the living room.

"Steve, I…"

And then I stopped.

Because it wasn't Steve.

It was Travis.

TBC...


	59. Chapter 59

**Steve POV**

* * *

Alex and I drove around for quite some time, but when none of my ideas panned out, we decided to head back to the house.

"I guess I don't know her as well as I thought," I said dejectedly.

"It's tough to anticipate where she might go," Alex replied. "And where she'd go if she was alone is probably different than where she would go with Nate."

I knew that she had a point, but I couldn't help but feel as though this was part of what our problem had been.

I didn't know Cathy nearly as well as I should.

"Still…how much time have I wasted _not_ knowing her? _Not_ talking to her? Being selfish and only thinking of myself?"

"It happens," she said. "You get comfortable in your relationship and then you just assume that the other person will always be there."

"You sound like the voice of experience."

"Maybe. Maybe in that I know what _not_ to do. I'm much more aware now, I think, of what's important in a relationship. And that's not to say that I do everything right, but I am a little more conscious of how my actions, or inactions, might effect Bobby."

She hesitated and just watched out the window for a few miles, but I didn't say anything because I had a feeling that she had more that she wanted to say.

Finally, she continued.

"With me and Joe, it was different. I'm not going to lie and say that we didn't love each other because we did. But it was still different. It was more like having a relationship that made sense on paper, you know? We were compatible in aspects that people think are going to be important. Joe came from family that was similar to mine. He was raised in a neighborhood like mine. Hell, we were even fairly alike in physical attributes. People used to say we could pass for brother and sister, and it thrilled Mom to no end to talk about how beautiful our kids would be. But those things aren't what's important in real life."

"So Bobby doesn't look good on paper?" I asked her, and I liked that the question just came out of me without hesitation.

"Bobby was my _partner_. I felt that by having a relationship was him I was setting back the feminine movement in the department by years. But the thing with him is that working together simultaneously hurried _and_ slowed our relationship. It made us closer because we spent so much time together and we depended on each other and yet it made us afraid to take the next step because we didn't want to ruin what we had. But the fact is, he could've been the plumber who came to fix my toilet and I would've fallen in love with him. It's just _him_, and things with us work despite the fact that it didn't look good on paper. It doesn't have to make sense anywhere but on the inside."

I think this was the most time together that Alex and I had ever spent and I realized that my instincts about her were dead on.

I really liked her, and I appreciated her honesty and the thought that she put into her words.

She didn't just spout off meaningless drivel.

"Are you talking about fate, Alex?" I asked, unable to resist teasing her a little bit.

She was so no-nonsense that it seemed paradoxical that she would classify her relationship with Bobby as _meant to be_.

"No," she denied quickly, but then she shrugged and said, "Maybe. But really, I'm just saying that he is everything that I want. I could've denied it until retirement age but the only thing that would've changed is the amount of time we had together."

"You wouldn't have moved on and found someone else?"

"Why would I? I wouldn't have been satisfied. Isn't that how you feel? I mean, can you imagine yourself happy with anyone else? Or when you see yourself as an old man, do you imagine Cathy by your side?"

It was a deep question and one that I pondered seriously as we made the journey home.

I was impressed with her self-awareness. She knew who she was and what she wanted and she'd been brave enough to go after it, even though it hadn't been the popular decision.

"So you can easily imagine yourself with Bobby at say…age seventy?"

"As clearly as if I was looking at a photograph."

Her confidence was inspiring.

Could I picture me and Cathy? Retired, maybe with grandchildren or great-grandchildren?

Yes.

Did the picture work without her in it?

No.

We got back to my house and I found a parking spot down the block.

Alex's phone rang as we got out of the car, and for the first time all afternoon, she reached for it to answer it.

"It's Bobby," she explained.

So I left her on the sidewalk and went up to the house.

I'd made up my mind what I was going to say to Cathy.

_Today was the first day…_

I could be the man that she wanted, the one that she needed, and together we would move forward.

I pulled out my key and put it in the lock, but as I turned it, I realized that the door was already unlocked and my hopes soared.

Was she home?

I glanced back over my shoulder at Alex and flashed her a smile before entering the house.

"Cathy?" I called out as I entered the house.

But it was still dark in the house and I wondered briefly if maybe I'd just forgotten to lock the door when we left.

That thought had barely permeated my brain when I felt an intense pain in my skull and then the lights went out.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

"I got him," Bobby said to me when I answered.

"I never had any doubt," I replied as a smile crossed my face. "What did he say?"

"He didn't know about what was going on, but he agreed to confirm that he hooked Harker up with Pebo."

"You are brilliant," I stated proudly. "Have I ever told you that?"

"Well, let's not get carried away," he replied, chuckling lightly.

I looked over to where Steve was going up to the door and I noticed that after he put the key in the lock, he looked at it curiously and then flashed me a smile.

The door was unlocked? Did that mean that Cathy was here?

"How are you feeling?" I asked him as I started walking toward the house.

"I'm okay."

"Bobby…"

"I've been better," he admitted softly. "I'm really looking forward to that twenty-four hours in bed with you."

"Soon," I promised. "Are you on your way here?"

"Yeah," he answered as I went up the steps. "I had several missed calls on my phone from your dad. Should I call him back?"

"No, just wait. I think maybe that she's come back," I told him. "This should all be over this afternoon and then I'll call Dad."

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

I hung up with Bobby and went through the partially-open door.

"Cathy?"

At the continued silence, I went further into the house. I looked up toward Nate's room, wondering if maybe they'd all convened there.

"Steve?"

"Well, this must be my lucky day. It's the bitch sister."

Despite not knowing him well, I pegged the voice in an instant.

It was Travis.

I whirled around, pulling my gun at the same time, and there he stood.

He was holding Cathy with her back against his chest and he had his arm around her throat.

Steve appeared to be out cold and was lying at their feet, but I could see the evident rise and fall of his chest so that was a good sign.

I didn't know where Nate was, but I hoped that since he wasn't visible that maybe he was in his room. I glanced to where they normally stored the laptop and saw that it was missing.

Good. _Stay up there, Nate_.

"Drop your weapon, or I'll kill her right now," Travis said to me as he raised a gun to Cathy's head.

I was surprised to see that he had a gun because that didn't seem like his thing.

He was a guy who liked to use his fists.

"It's a big step," I said calmly. "Going from domestic abuse to murder."

"Are you looking out for my well-being?"

"I'm looking out for everyone."

"I just came to take back what's mine," he said, tightening his grip on Cathy's throat.

I didn't point out the ridiculousness of his statement.

Cathy had been married to Steve for over thirteen years. Even if I didn't object to the territorial type of statement, she wasn't _his_.

If she was anyone's, she was _Steve's_.

"I'll go with you," Cathy said, and I was proud of the fact that her voice sounded strong. "Just leave them alone."

"I'm waiting for your sister to put down her gun," he shouted in reply. "I _owe_ her. She cracked my fucking ribs."

Oh, I was going to do a hell of a lot more than that if I got the chance.

The last time, I'd had to be careful. I was in his apartment.

Now he was in my sister's house and he was threatening her life.

He was fair game.

"Come on, Travis," Cathy said again. "Let's just go. I'll leave with you right now."

"You'll leave with me whenever the hell I say," he replied. "So while I appreciate the offer, Cathy, no we're _not_ going to leave them alone. And when I want your opinion, I'll give it to you. Got it?"

Then he clicked off the safety on his gun and pushed it harder against the side of Cathy's head.

If I'd known he had the damn safety on before, I would've just shot him. But I hadn't considered that.

How many people held someone at gun point with the safety on?

And now that he had it off, I definitely couldn't shoot. I couldn't run the risk of his finger pulling the trigger on reflex.

"Now put down your _fucking_ gun," he ordered.

"What's your plan, Travis?" I asked him as I slowly bent down and placed my gun on the floor.

"What's my plan?" he repeated. "Are you trying to play hostage negotiator with me now?"

"I'm just trying to figure you out. You know, I had a feeling that you were stupid, but I had no idea you were this bad."

"What?" he yelled. "You're calling me stupid?"

"Travis," I said condescendingly. "You broke into someone's home. You assaulted the owner. You're holding the other owner at gunpoint. And all of this is while you're out on bail for drug charges and assault. How do you think this is going to end? I mean, seriously."

"We can just end it all right now if you want," he replied, moving the gun so that it was now pointed at me, which had been my plan.

Cathy didn't need to have that thing jammed up against her head. She'd gone through enough lately.

"Let her go," I told him. "And you can have me."

"You. Just like that."

"Sure. One sister's as good as another, right? I'll go with you. Where do you want to go?"

I'd confused him with that one and I watched his face as he thought over my offer.

I didn't expect him to actually take me up on it, but I wanted him to be off-balance.

Whatever his plan had been by coming here, it wasn't going to go as he'd hoped.

He wasn't leaving here with Cathy.

In fact, he wasn't going to be leaving here any way except in handcuffs in the back of a squad car.

Or in the coroner's van.

I moved my gaze from Travis to Cathy and found her staring at me with a look of apology and remorse.

_It's going to be okay_, I said silently.

She shifted her eyes upward twice in an effort to let me know where Nate was.

His room.

I'd been right about him going up there with the laptop, and fortunately I knew my nephew well enough to know that as long as we didn't lose our internet connection, he'd be preoccupied with that until at least dinner time.

So now all I needed to do was to stall Travis long enough for Bobby to get here.

TBC...


	60. Chapter 60

**Logan POV**

* * *

I wasn't trying to be a snoop.

Really.

In fact, I was specifically trying to _not_ be a snoop.

I mean, I'm a nosy guy, but I don't normally poke through my friends' belongings.

But I was sitting at Lupo's desk while Carolyn went to get some coffee.

And she didn't go because she's the woman or anything.

I'm not like that and _she's_ not like that.

More often than not, the so-called woman-type chores are split fifty-fifty between us. We're too damn busy to worry about who takes out the trash or who washes the dishes, just as long as it gets done.

And honestly, we usually do everything together.

Some guys might think that makes me a pussy, but I think it makes me a good husband.

I mean, why should those things automatically be deferred to her?

But I digress.

So Carolyn went to get the coffee because we'd flipped a coin and she lost.

I'd already called Bobby and it had gone to voice mail, so I figured that he wasn't quite finished up at Rikers.

I was anxious to talk to him because I wanted to hear how his sit-down with Moran had gone.

Moran could be a first class prick and he'd always enjoyed targeting Bobby, so I wasn't crazy about the idea that he'd gone alone and I was more than a little worried about his self-confidence.

True, he'd come a long way in the past six months, but still…Moran had a knack for pushing buttons.

I should know.

With me, he usually ended up making me want to hit him.

With Bobby, he always managed to make him doubt himself.

I sincerely hoped that hadn't been the case this time.

And actually, it would've been really nice if I'd been the one to go with him.

Like I said, he inspires me to violence, and somehow I didn't think that the guards at Rikers would put up too much of a fuss if I decided to vent my frustrations out on Moran.

I checked my watch and decided to give Bobby two more minutes and then I would try to call him again.

In the mean time, I wanted to jot down a few thoughts about Hemmings, maybe some ideas on how to trip her up when we went at her again.

Because we _were_ going to go at her again.

She wasn't a professional criminal.

Surely she would crack eventually.

I hadn't met her lawyer yet, so I'd wait to see who she found to represent her and then decide upon a strategy, but I did have a few different ideas about ways to play it.

I pulled my pen from my jacket pocket, but I discovered that it was out of ink, so I opened up Lupo's drawer to get out another pen.

And yes, there were plenty of pens in the drawer, but those weren't what caught my eye.

See, this is where that part about being a snoop comes into play.

Because instead of focusing on the pens, my gaze fell onto a box.

And I knew exactly what kind of thing was in a box like that.

"Holy shit," I muttered under my breath.

I sat back and looked around the room to see if anyone was watching me.

Because I wanted to open it.

I wanted to be sure.

And hell no, it wasn't for one second any of my damn business, but I suddenly just had to know.

_Was he really going to do what I thought he was going to do_?

I reached for it, actually touched the leathery fabric on the box, but then I made myself stop.

It _wasn't_ any of my business.

And Lupo was a good friend.

I couldn't violate his privacy like that.

If he was going to do it, then more power to him.

And when she said yes, I figured he'd shout it out to the world. But until then, I was going to let it remain his little secret.

Pleased with my own willpower, I grabbed a pen and closed the drawer.

I scrawled out the ideas that I'd wanted to get down and then I got out my phone and placed another call to Bobby.

"How did it go?" I asked when he answered.

"It went well," he replied easily.

And he truly sounded okay, so I was able to let go of some of the tension that I'd been feeling.

"So he was behind it?"

"No. He says he didn't know about it, and I believe him. I think the whole thing was an effort by Harker to get into his good graces by getting revenge on everyone Daddy hated."

"That's got to be quite a list," I quipped. "Harker could be busy with that for the next fifty years."

"At least," he agreed on a chuckle. "But Moran agreed to establish the connection between Pebo and Harker."

"Just like that?"

"Hey, I can be persuasive when I want to be."

"True," I agreed. "What else does he know?"

"Not much, but he said that he wants to talk with Harker. He said that he'd get him to confess if we promised to ask for a lighter sentence."

I sat back in Lupo's chair and thought about that for a minute.

Did I _want _Harker to get a light sentence?

The man had tried to destroy Ross' career.

He'd ordered a guy to rape and kill Liz.

He'd had his neighbor killed just to keep his mouth shut.

And he'd done all of this while he had a badge and worked for the damn NYPD.

As far as I was concerned, he deserved to rot in Rikers.

As though to further fuel my distaste for the proposal, Liz got off of the elevator and walked through the squad room toward her husband's office.

She gave me a smile and a nod as she passed, but her eyes looked tired and slightly haunted.

Over my dead body was Harker going to get any kind of light sentence.

"That's great, Bobby, really, but…"

"I know," he agreed quickly. "So what are you going to do about it? Because even with Moran's statement about the connection, I don't think we have enough for a conviction. Connie's good, but she's not Houdini."

"I hear you," I muttered. "Well, if Moran thinks he can get Harker to confess, then so can I."

"You're going to go at him?"

"Hey, what else do I have to do? Lupo and Bernard split about an hour ago. Me and Carolyn have been dancing with Hemmings, but she finally lawyered up. Where are you headed?"

"Steve's. Alex is with him, and she thinks that maybe Cathy's gone back home. I haven't heard back from her so she must be there."

"Okay, good," I said sincerely. "So she came home on her own, huh? That's great."

"Yeah, I hope so."

Carolyn came back into the squad room with two cups of coffee and sat on the edge of Lupo's desk.

"Okay, well, I'll go give it my best shot with Harker. Let's send the little punk away for life, huh?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll check in with you later."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

My phone rang as soon as I hung up with Mike.

It was Lupo.

"It went great," I told him when I answered the phone, figuring that he wanted to check up on my interview with Moran.

"So this was all Moran?"

"No, but he's willing to help us out," I said, and I gave him a brief rundown of the conversation. "Although, Mike's going to take a run at Harker first."

"That's good," he said, but he sounded distracted and less than enthusiastic.

"But?"

"Do you know where Alex is?"

"She's with Steve," I said quickly. "Why? And where are you? Mike said that you and Bernard disappeared."

"Have they found Cathy yet?" he asked instead of answering my question.

I was on full alert now.

"I don't know. Alex thought maybe so. She'd just gotten back to Steve's house when I talked to her. Lupo, what's going on?"

"Connie followed Travis once he was released. They had a confrontation, and he talked about how Cathy belonged to him. He's going to try to go after her."

"Is Connie okay?"

"Yeah," he replied hesitantly. "Yeah, she's fine. But I called Alex a second ago to warn her about the potential danger from Travis, and she's not answering."

"I'm on my way to Steve's now," I said, stepping on the gas a little harder.

"Give me the address. We'll meet you there."

I hung up with Lupo and quickly dialed Alex, but she didn't answer.

Before I could even set the phone down, it rang again.

I checked the display, hoping that it was Alex calling to tell me that everything was fine, but it wasn't her.

It was Sean.

"I can't really talk right now," I said.

"What's going on?"

I told him what little bit I knew of the situation.

"Shit," he muttered. "Dad's on his way over there."

"He's what?" I shouted. "You talked to him?"

"I know," he said. "But he kept calling and calling, and I kept ignoring him, and then he showed up at my damn precinct. I'd hauled Ted in to be booked on auto theft, and when I got into the squad room, there he was."

"What did you tell him?"

"Not much. I didn't even mention that Cathy had run off. I just said that she and Steve were having some issues and they needed some time away from the family. He didn't much care for that. He said if I knew, and Alex knew, then why couldn't he know."

"So he's going over to Steve's now?"

"Yeah, man," he replied, sounding extremely worried. "It's been a little while, too. He's probably about there. And I can't leave her. My captain called a freaking press conference about this bust."

And I was still at least five minutes away.

Lupo had said it would take him between five and ten minutes.

Which meant that _if _Cathy had come back and _if_ Travis had tracked her down at Steve's house, and _if_ Alex was in trouble, then Johnny was going to be walking right into the middle of it.

Of course, any one of those things might not be true, but I couldn't take the risk.

"Don't worry about it, Sean. I'll handle it," I told him.

So I hung up with Sean and I called Johnny.

"Eames," he answered.

Crisp, curt, concise.

Just like Alex used to say it.

But even that thought wasn't comforting because my father-in-law was my nemesis.

And it didn't matter how many times he said he'd try, or what kind of apology he made for his false accusations, or his concession that _maybe_ I didn't cheat at cards.

The man didn't like me.

"Sir, it's Bobby."

"What is it, Son? I'm kind of busy right now."

"Where are you?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"I need to know. Are you at Steve's?" I insisted.

"Yeah," he answered in annoyance. "I'm just pulling up now. You know, I thought that maybe _this_ son-in-law might decide to talk to me today, since you've been ignoring me all day and none of my kids are taking my calls either."

"Sir, don't go in the house."

"What do you mean _don't go in the house_? I'm welcome here. They haven't given me the boot yet. And something is going on with my daughter and I'm damn sure going to find out what it is. I've had just about enough of this secrecy and deceit and I've got a pretty good feeling that it was your idea to have them keep everything from me because they've never acted like this before but now all of a sudden I'm the enemy, and I'm not going to tolerate that. I'm putting my foot down and I'm putting it down right now. Besides that…"

"Johnny!" I shouted firmly, startling him into silence. "Do _not _go into the house!"

I waited a beat while he assimilated my choice of words with my obvious sense of urgency.

"Okay, Bobby," he said quietly. "I'm listening. What's going on?"

"It's very possible that both of your daughters are in danger."

"Inside?"

"Yes. I will be there in two minutes. Stay outside and wait for me."

"But…"

"Wait for me!" I yelled.

"Okay. Okay, yeah. I'll wait for you."

"Do you still have a gun in your glove box?"

"Of course."

"Get it out and have it ready. I'll be right there."

TBC...


	61. Chapter 61

**Logan POV**

* * *

I brought Carolyn up to speed on what I'd learned from Bobby and then the two of us headed for Ross' office.

I knocked, since I knew that Liz was in there with him, but it was only a second before he called out for us to come in.

"I get to see you twice in only a few hours. You're gonna spoil me, Doc."

"Always the smooth talker, Mike," she replied with a smile.

I was glad to be able to coax one out of her because it was much preferable to the sad look that she'd had on her face when she arrived in the squad room.

I wasn't sure how much Ross had told her about Harker or Moran, and I didn't want to just blurt out my request, so I started out slowly.

"I'd like to take a run at Harker," I said, casting a glance in Liz' direction.

"She's up to speed," Ross said knowingly.

"Oh. Okay, well then let me tell you what Bobby got from Moran."

So I told them both about Moran's offer.

"But I don't want to make any kind of deal," I said.

"You think that you can get him to confess?" Ross asked me.

"I don't know. Maybe. But I definitely want to give it a shot."

"It can't hurt, Captain," Carolyn added. "At least we know that we have a back-up plan in place. If Mike can get it, then we won't need Moran. If he can't, we'll use him. And I don't know about you, but I'd much rather not have to use Moran for anything."

"I hear you," he agreed. "Okay. Give me a few minutes and then I'll come in to observe."

"I'd like to watch, too," Liz spoke up.

"Liz…"

"I think that's a great idea," Carolyn spoke up. I'd been getting ready to side with Ross on that, so she surprised me. "She knows the evidence better than any of us. If he tries to wiggle out of something, she can let you know right on the spot."

Ross bought her explanation, but I didn't.

Carolyn knew the evidence inside and out, and to be honest, so did I.

But I wasn't going to argue with her, at least not in front of the others.

I trusted that she had her reasons.

"Okay," Ross agreed. "Five minutes."

"You really think it's a good idea for Liz to hear this stuff? What if I have to get specific about what Pebo was supposed to do to her?" I asked once we left Ross' office.

"I think it'll be good for her. She's not a hide-your-head-in-the-sand kind of person. She deals much better with facts, and she likes to face them head on. Right now, he's this faceless person who orchestrated the attack against her, but once she sees you take him apart, it'll lessen her fear."

"What if I don't take him apart?"

"You will."

"Lupo and Bernard went at him for hours," I reminded her.

"I know."

Her unwavering confidence boosted my self-esteem a bit, so I switched my focus onto how I was going to handle Harker.

What would be the _in_ that would get him?

Carolyn and I had already decided that I would go in alone instead of having her come in with me.

She'd be watching, of course, and would come in if the need arose, but first we wanted to get a feel for what was going to work on him.

"So you really think that I can do it?"

"Yes. And you do, too," she said with a smile. "So man up and get it done."

Five minutes later, I went into the interrogation room.

I tried to forget the idea that Carolyn and Ross and Liz were all on the other side of the glass. It's not that I minded working for an audience, but I didn't want to subconsciously censor anything that I was about to say.

I crossed the room and set a bag down on the table and then pulled out a couple of sandwiches. It had been mine and Carolyn's lunch, but she'd offered hers up as a way to make nice with Harker.

"Hungry?" I asked him.

"What do you think?" he retorted as he grabbed a sandwich. "Are you the errand boy?"

"You don't know who I am?"

"Yeah, I do" he admitted. "Detective Mike Logan. You're the cop who hit that councilman."

I sat down at the table across from him and leaned back in my chair.

"You know, you do one bad thing and it follows you your entire career," I said with a shake of my head. "Although, I'm not really sure I consider it to be all that bad."

"Not bad?" he asked with a grin. "You slugged the guy in front of television cameras. You got banished to Staten Island for ten years. How is that not a bad thing?"

"He had it coming," I said in a conspiratorial voice. "Know what I mean? Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."

"So you're supposed to be the good cop, huh? What, they sent you in here because they thought that I'd identify with you?"

"Why would you do that?" I asked him. "Did you try to give someone something they deserved?"

He shrugged me off and started eating his sandwich, so I regrouped and came at him again.

"So what's this thing between you and Ross? You know, you didn't even make a blip on his radar, and yet you're angry enough at him to try to have his wife killed. You got some kind of infatuation with him or something?"

"Ross is a prick."

"Sure he is. I've always thought so, too, but I never tried to kill his wife."

"Maybe you're not very ambitious."

"Implying that you are? So you admit that you ordered Pebo to kill her."

"I'm not admitting shit."

"I can understand that. You know, it must really mess with your mind."

"What's that?"

"Having a dad like Moran. Now _he's_ a piece of work."

"What do you know about him?" he asked sullenly.

"Plenty. You know, he wanted to fire me a few years back, and when my partner tried to talk him out of it, he told her that he'd forget about the whole thing if she'd sleep with him. Can you believe that?"

"So what? It's just sex. Did she do it?"

"No."

"I guess she was a crappy partner."

"No, she was a damn good one. She made a deal with him and quit herself so that I wouldn't get fired."

"So what's the big fucking deal then? All's when that ends well, right?"

"It doesn't bother you that he's so immoral? I mean, he tried to set up my friend for murder. A murder that _he_ committed."

"Are you talking about that stripper? Jeez, let it go. It was an accident. He would never do anything like that on purpose."

"So he's unethical but he's not a killer."

"Exactly."

"Then how do you think he'd feel to know that you tried to kill Dr. Rodgers?"

"I didn't," he insisted arrogantly.

I shoved my chair back from the table and abruptly got to my feet. Slamming my hands down on the table, I leaned over and got nose to nose with him.

"No, but you told Pebo to do it. You told him to rape her and kill her and then leave the note setting up Bobby Goren. You wanted to set him up just like your old man tried to set him up, only you thought you'd succeed. You thought you'd one up him by being able to take down the man that he'd been trying to destroy for years. You wanted to prove to Daddy once and for all that you're a worthy son, right?"

I stopped for a moment and took a breath as Harker sat there and glared at me with hate-filled eyes.

He was close.

I almost had him.

"He probably laughed at you behind your back for getting washed out of Major Case after only a week," I continued. "He did, didn't he? And that's why you got so angry with Ross. You blamed him for transferring you out instead of placing the blame where it belonged, which was on you. You were the one who couldn't cut it. You were the one who was handed a golden opportunity and you flushed it down the toilet because you're steeped with incompetence. Hell, I bet Moran started to wonder if you truly were his son. Did he ask for a DNA test? Because you know, as much as I despise the man, he knew how to do his job. He was the goddamn Chief of D's. And what are you? Barely even a detective. And you won't even be that as soon as your captain hears about what you've done. So tell me Harker. Did Daddy ask for some kind of proof to show that you're his?"

"I am his son," he shouted. "And you don't know what the hell you're talking about. He will be proud of me. When he hears what I did for him, he will be so proud."

"When he hears," I scoffed, although I was secretly pleased about his words. "He already knows. And you know what he said? He said, _you tell that little punk that he's no son of mine_. Does that sound like a proud father?"

"He knows? How does he know?"

"Did you honestly think that we wouldn't send someone to talk to him? He's the connection. It was _his_ buddy from prison that you talked into going after Dr. Rodgers. It was _his_ hatred of Bobby Goren that made you pull him into your scheme for revenge on Ross. Otherwise you would've just focused on the captain, but you didn't. You wanted to take Bobby down, too. For dear old Dad, right?"

"He really said that?" he asked distractedly. "That I wasn't his son? And you told him _everything_?"

"Yeah," I said with a shrug. "Well, most of it. Although, we weren't sure exactly how you got Pebo to do your dirty work."

"I pretended to be him," he replied, seemingly still in a daze.

"Him. Your dad?" I asked. And then it hit me. "You used the name C-Dog, and you acted like you were Moran. You maintained an alter ego."

"Pretty smart, huh? You still think I don't belong in Major Case?"

"I don't think you belong anywhere except prison," I said, standing up straight and taking a step back from the table. "Now the way I see it, you've got two choices."

"Only two?"

"You can let this go to trial, and we'll nail your ass to the wall."

"Or?"

"Or you can give us a full confession. You can lay out exactly what Hemmings' role was in this and you can give us a play by play of the entire plot."

"Why in the hell would I want to do your job for you? If you can't figure it out…"

"Because our theory might be a little different from yours. Our theory has your dad as the one who's pulling the strings. You know why? Because there's no way that you're smart enough to plan this thing out. And how long is Daddy's sentence? Oh yeah. He's up for parole in seven years. Well, guess what? If we tack on this latest business, then he's never getting out. He'll spend the rest of his miserable, pathetic life behind bars. And who will he have to thank for that? His son. Because you were too selfish and cowardly to admit what you did. You let your old man take the heat for your mistakes."

"You can't prove that," he said. "There's nothing that shows he's involved."

"How much evidence do you think we'd need to get a jury to buy the fact that Moran was plotting revenge against the very people who helped to put him in prison to begin with? It would be like a picnic in the park for the DA. They'd have opening and closing remarks in the same day, and then bye-bye possibility of parole."

He held my gaze for a long time, and then he finally gave me a slow nod.

"Okay," he conceded, running his hands over his face.

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll give you a confession. What do I have to do? Are you going to video tape it? You want me to write it down? What? Just leave my dad out of it."

"I'll bring you a notepad. You can write it all down," I told him as relief and excitement and pride filtered through me.

_I did it_.

I got the bastard to admit to it, and now this would never go to trial, so Liz would never have to testify.

I took a deep breath and headed for the door.

"Hey Logan," Harker said as I grabbed onto the doorknob.

"What?"

"My dad was wrong about you."

"About which part?" I asked smartly. I could only imagine the things his dad might have said.

"He called you a flea-bitten mutt who was all brawn and no brain."

It wasn't the first time I'd heard that, so the words didn't bother me.

Too much.

"Well, then hell yeah he's wrong. I've haven't had fleas in years."

TBC...


	62. Chapter 62

**Johnny Eames POV**

* * *

I'd known for days that something was going on and I was kicking myself now for not pursuing my hunch sooner.

I mean, I _had_ to some extent.

I'd talked to Sean.

And Kevin.

And Alex, a little.

But Cathy hadn't been returning my calls and that should've really told me something.

My kids were closing up ranks.

They were keeping me outside of the loop and that meant that there was serious trouble.

The fact that she'd left Steve hadn't bothered me too much. Mostly because I never considered the possibility that the break-up would last.

Sounds backwards, I know, but Cathy didn't do reckless things.

That was Alex.

So even though I knew that Cathy and Steve were separated, I was still okay.

And then I heard that she was going out with some guy.

I didn't like it, but I was still sort of okay because I thought maybe that would help her see how much she loved her husband.

Sometimes, in the middle years of a marriage, things get a little pedestrian.

A person tends to forget why they got married in the first place.

Sometimes spending time with the opposite sex, someone other than your spouse, well…it reminds you of how good you have it.

The grass might seem greener at first, but in the end it usually turns out to be the same damn lawn, just on the other side of the fence.

And on _that_ side of the fence, you don't always know where the mole holes and hornets' nests are.

So, even with all of the knowledge that I had about Cathy, I wasn't overly worried.

She still called me, and she was still my same Cathy.

Until a couple of weeks ago.

Then she quit calling, and that was when suddenly everyone else clammed up, too.

Now it didn't surprise me much that Alex was AWOL for awhile because she did that from time to time.

Her and that damn husband of hers.

Oh, don't get me wrong.

I know that she loves him.

I know that he treats her right.

And I know that she deserves to be happy.

But I couldn't get past the idea that he'd tainted her career.

And if he really loved her, he would've never let it come to that.

He would've rebuffed her affection and sent her on her way so that she could find some other guy to make her happy, some guy who _wasn't_ her partner.

But he was selfish in that respect.

And don't they say if you love someone then set them free?

Well, he hadn't done that.

His career had been iffy at best and then he had to go and stomp on hers.

And she'd worked _so_ hard for it.

She and Joe had started their lives together, their careers together, with such hope and promise.

This child was going to be my crowning achievement. She was going to have it all.

And don't get me wrong.

I love all of my children.

But any person who tells you that they love their children the same is a liar.

Children are all different so of course they're loved differently.

I don't mean more or less.

Just different.

It's the same when it comes to disciplining them. You have to take into account their personalities and their sensibilities before you start doling out punishment.

But so my point is that when Alex quit talking to me as often, I didn't put too much stock in it.

I figured that husband of hers was pressuring her to pull away from her family.

Oh sure, he invited me and the boys to the poker games, but that was only so he could score points with her while scamming us out of our money.

Although, Alex had said that she'd told him not to invite me.

Why would she say that?

She'd told him not to and yet he'd insisted.

Huh.

I might have to give that some more thought.

But not today.

Today was when my internal alarm really started going off.

Now, I know that I screwed up by going to Alex's house Saturday night to accuse Bobby of sleeping with Cathy. That hadn't been one of my finer moments and I'll admit that I'm ashamed of myself for that.

I'd so desperately wanted to show Alex that Bobby didn't walk on water, but I'd only ended up insulting my own daughter.

And deep down, I knew that the man wasn't like that.

Alex wouldn't put up with it.

_Would she?_

Although she did keep telling me that Joe had been a cheater, and yet she'd stayed with him.

I'd never seen any evidence that he'd strayed, but…would I know? Or had he just been smart enough to cover his tracks?

And honestly, Alex wasn't a liar. Cathy had been right when she'd pointed that out.

Alex had her flaws, but deceitfulness wasn't one of them.

If she said that Joe had cheated, then maybe he had.

That thought was enough to give me pause.

All of these years I'd been singing the praises of a man who'd stepped out on my daughter.

That was something else I'd have to come back to.

After I found out what was going on with Cathy.

I'd gotten a hold of Kevin earlier today, but he didn't know anything. And I believed him when he said it. He'd been working seventy hours a week at the fire station and he had two kids down with chicken pox, so I had a feeling that he had enough going on without thinking about Cathy.

Sean avoided my calls all day, so I finally tracked him down at his precinct. And it hurt to see that he hadn't been happy to see me.

"Dad, it's really not a good time," he'd said.

"It hasn't been all day, huh? Or yesterday? Or all weekend?"

"Work has been pretty hectic. I just picked up this guy who was running a car theft ring."

"Well, that's a big deal," I said proudly. "Why don't you take a lunch break, and we'll talk about it."

"I really can't. I'm sorry."

"Sean," I said in my most stern fatherly voice. "What is going on with your sister?"

"Alex? Nothing. She's fine."

"Not Alex," I said, forcing myself not to yell.

Sean knew damn well I hadn't meant Alex, and I suddenly felt like I was in a time warp, back to the days when they were all teenagers and conspiring to sneak out of the house together.

They used to drive me crazy. I mean, I liked that they had a good sense of family and a strong sibling bond.

But still…

"Where is Cathy?"

"She and Steve are just having some trouble right now."

"I know that. What kind of trouble?"

"They need some time to work it out, Dad. Without the family getting involved."

"But you know about it. And Alex knows. So it can't be much of a secret."

"Dad…"

"I'm going over there. You can call and warn them if you want, but I'd rather you didn't. Maybe I can help them over the hump with their troubles. I have been married for more than forty years, you know. I know a thing or two about it."

So I'd driven to Steve and Cathy's house. It might not be my place to get involved, but enough was enough.

I was worried, and I wanted to help.

I saw Steve's car parked up the block, but I couldn't find a spot, so I had to circle the block.

That was when my phone rang.

Bobby.

I almost didn't answer since he certainly had no problem ignoring me when I called him, but in the end, I couldn't just let it ring.

"Eames."

"Sir, it's Bobby."

"What is it, Son?" I replied in annoyance. I didn't know why he always felt the need to call me _sir_. Hadn't I told the boy to call me Johnny? It was like he wanted to keep that distance between us. "I'm kind of busy right now."

But then he asked me where I was.

And the way he said it gave me the impression that he already knew the answer.

I knew the man was smart, but what I didn't know was why that fact irritated me so much.

Did I feel like I was competing with him or something?

I was Alex's father. I didn't need to compete with her husband for her love.

I would always have it.

Wouldn't I?

Or was that what bothered me?

That maybe he would take her away from me?

I shook my head, now annoyed with myself, and I deflected his question.

But he didn't want to let it go.

"I need to know. Are you at Steve's?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I'm just pulling up now."

And then, because I couldn't resist getting a shot in at him, I added, "You know, I thought that maybe _this_ son-in-law might decide to talk to me today, since you've been ignoring me all day and none of my kids are taking my calls either."

"Sir, don't go in the house."

His words set me off on a rant.

I mean, I was just so damn frustrated with this whole situation.

They wanted to keep me in the dark and treat me like I'm inconsequential?

I was Cathy's father.

And I was a cop.

I've protected my kids all their lives, and yet now I'm suddenly supposed to start taking orders from the newest member of the family?

I went on and on, unleashing my aggravation on Bobby until his sharp voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

And not just the tone, either.

But what he said.

"Johnny! Do _not _go into the house!"

His words caused me to quit being a dad for a minute and go back to being a cop.

"Okay, Bobby. I'm listening. What's going on?"

"It's very possible that both of your daughters are in danger."

"Inside?"

"Yes. I will be there in two minutes. Stay outside and wait for me."

Wait for him?

Because he didn't think I could handle it alone?

I was walking a beat when he was still in diapers.

"But…"

"Wait for me!" he shouted.

And I heard something more than bossiness in his voice.

I heard concern and a little bit of fear, too.

_Of course_ he was scared. His wife, my _daughter_, was potentially in danger.

I didn't quiz him on details. I trusted him to bring me up to speed when he arrived.

"Okay. Okay, yeah. I'll wait for you."

"Do you still have a gun in your glove box?"

"Of course."

"Get it out and have it ready. I'll be right there."

So I hung up the phone and opened up my glove box. I actually had two guns in there, so I pulled them out, checked the clips, tucked the small one, the .22, down inside my sock, and I kept the .45 in my hand.

I don't know how far away Bobby had been when he called, but by the time I finished with my guns, he stopped his car in the middle of the street, double-parked next to mine.

"Have you seen any movement?" he asked me as he got out of the car and pulled out his weapon and then he strode over to where I stood on the sidewalk.

Gone was his usual hesitant speech and shifty gaze.

He was all business.

This was a side of him that I had never seen before.

"No. And the house is dark. Are you sure they're even here? I mean, I see Steve's car, but…"

"Here's the deal," he said quickly. "The guy that Cathy had an affair with has been beating her. She left him and filed charges, but now he's decided that he's not going to let her go."

"She was…that's who's in there?" I asked, my brain scrambling to keep up despite the fact that it was hung up on the words _beating her_.

"I think so. I know the guy got out on bail, and I know that he's pissed and wants to find her."

"Nate's in there, too?"

"Johnny, I'm guessing at all of this right now. Alex and Steve are in there. Probably Cathy and if she is, then Nate is too because he was with her. And with no movement, no one answering the phone, and no lights…it's a safe bet to think that Travis tracked Cathy back to here."

"What does he…is he…does he use a gun?"

"Not that I know of. Not before, anyway. But it's hard to say. If he's gone off the deep end, then anything is possible."

I nodded solemnly, and forced myself to act like a cop.

"Come on," he continued as he started down the sidewalk. "Let's go look through the windows and see if we can get a handle on the situation."

**

* * *

**

Cathy POV

Alex has got to be about the bravest person I've ever known.

Here we were, in this crappy situation, and yet she talked Travis into turning the gun onto her.

And then she went a step further.

"Let her go," she said to him. "And you can have me."

"You. Just like that," Travis replied in disbelief.

And I was suddenly repulsed by the realization that I could feel his erection pressing into my backside.

He was actually turned on by this whole situation, and even more so about the idea of Alex offering herself to him.

_Yeah, take her up on it_, I thought. _She'll castrate you in about two seconds flat._

"Sure. One sister's as good as another, right?" Alex suggested. "I'll go with you. Where do you want to go?"

I couldn't believe that this was how things had worked out.

I mean, I know it's my fault.

I got us all into this by having an affair with him, but how much punishment was enough?

I just wanted to talk to Steve and explain everything to him.

I wanted to hug my sister and apologize for the worry that I'd most definitely caused and for not trusting her enough to go to her for help.

I'd truly thought that I was doing the smart thing by running away with Nate, but now I knew that running away was never smart, never honorable.

I should've gone to Alex.

The police.

Steve.

I could've done any number of things other than what I did.

So I guess that was my answer.

No punishment was enough.

I deserved to be here.

I deserved to have Travis hurt me.

_But Alex and Steve didn't_.

And neither did Nate. I was so very grateful that he had taken the laptop with him when he went upstairs because I knew that would keep him busy for awhile.

But I needed Alex to know where he was so that she could help me protect him.

I caught her gaze and tried to convey my thoughts.

_I'm so sorry. I never should have let this happen_.

She looked at me encouragingly, silently telling me to keep it together, and then I looked up toward Nate's room to let her know that's where he was.

She gave me a subtle nod, and I instantly felt relief.

Alex would get us out of this.

At that moment, I heard Steve begin to stir.

"Cathy…" he mumbled.

And maybe it seems stupid considering the situation that we were in, but the idea that my name was the first thing to pass his lips after being knocked unconscious, well…it gave me hope.

"I'm here," I responded, but before I could say more, Travis squeezed hard against my throat.

"Shut up! I didn't tell you that you could talk!"

"Let me help him up," Alex suggested. "And make sure that he's okay. I mean, you don't really want to kill anyone, right?"

"What do you know about what I want?"

Steve pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, but then Travis kicked him in the side and he went back down to the ground.

"Leave him alone!" I yelled, fighting against the grip that Travis had on me.

"I'll drop her right now if you don't settle down," he warned, pointing the gun at Alex's head.

I immediately quit struggling.

There was no way I could risk the possibility of him shooting her.

"Hey, we had a deal on the table, remember?" Alex said. "You and me will leave together."

"That was your idea, not mine."

"But you like the sound of it, don't you?" she asked, taking a step closer to us. She dropped her tone of voice so that it had a husky, seductive quality to it, and said, "Because I'll fight you harder than she will. You know I will. And isn't that what you really like?"

Travis' breathing picked up and he ground himself shamelessly against my backside.

_Oh my God, he was going to take her up on it_.

She barely knew him and yet she'd pegged him for a sexual sadist.

Why the hell had it taken me so long?

But that was beside the point.

I wasn't going to let her put herself in more danger just to save me.

And yes, of course it was important for me to be around for Nate. He needed a mother, and if something happened to me…I didn't even want to think about it.

But I also didn't want to think about what he'd think of me if he knew that I'd let my sister fight my battles. That I'd taken the coward's way out instead of standing up for myself and what was right.

So far, I hadn't been much of a role model for him, but I could be one now.

"No," I said.

My voice was quiet at first, but I cleared my throat and forced myself to speak loudly and clearly.

"No," I said again.

"No? Are you talking to me?" Travis asked. "Since when do you tell me no?"

"I don't want you to take Alex. Take me."

"I don't know. I think she's right. I think she'd be like a damn wildcat."

"I can be whatever you want," I replied. "Please, Travis. I love you. I want to be with you. I was just confused."

"Cathy," Alex argued. "You don't have to do this."

She stared at me hard, but I wasn't about to back down now.

I'd been acting like a child and a coward for too long now.

This was a way that I could fix it.

I wasn't going to depend on Alex to save me.

_I _was going to save _her_.

And maybe, if I was really lucky, I could save myself.

TBC...


	63. Chapter 63

**Travis POV**

* * *

I couldn't decide what I wanted to do.

Because I'll be honest.

I didn't really plan anything out ahead of time.

I'd kind of just thought that when I got here, I would order Cathy into my car and I'd take her back to my place.

I didn't know that it would turn into all of this.

Because it never occurred to me that she wouldn't want to come with me, and I certainly hadn't expected that the sister would show up with the former husband.

And I know that yesterday Cathy had acted like she didn't want me, but surely after she had time to give it some thought, she'd come around.

Hadn't I given her the opportunity to pleasure me in the car? She'd gotten out before we really had a chance to do anything, but she'd wanted to, I could tell.

I mean, she left _him_ for _me_.

And after being with me, why in the world would she ever want to go back?

Yeah, she had the little brat to think about, but she hadn't worried too much about him over the past two weeks. Another month and he'd be nothing but a memory.

Hell, I bet I could even get her to move away from the city.

Then it would be just me and her and she wouldn't have anyone to run to the next time she decided to get mouthy and I had to hit her.

She probably thinks that I like hitting her, but that's just stupid.

I'm just not going to tolerate her talking back to me.

Or looking at me with attitude.

Or being condescending.

She needed to learn her place.

And that place was behind me.

So when I'd come into the house, I thought it would be fairly simple.

I'd say, _Cathy get in the car_.

And she'd do it.

But she didn't. Instead, she wanted to argue with me about it. She said that she wasn't going with me, and that she never wanted to see me again.

Who the hell did she think she was?

So then I'd grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her toward the door, but that was when I heard footsteps on the outside stairs.

I didn't have any choice.

I'd pulled my gun and pointed it at her.

"If you make a sound, I'll kill whoever walks through that door."

She shut the hell up in a hurry, and when the husband came in, I whacked him on the back of the head with a gun.

And man, did he drop like a rock.

Fucking pussy.

But for some reason, she'd acted all upset about it.

All I wanted to do was to get her out of that house, but she kept struggling against me.

And yeah, I'll admit it.

I let it go on longer than I needed to because I liked it.

I hadn't truly realized until yesterday in the car how much more exciting it made it for me when there was pain involved.

In the past, any time I'd had to punish a woman, she would just go all quiet and meek until the moment was over.

But Cathy had resisted me yesterday, and I'd liked it.

Today, she was _really_ battling and it was even better, so I didn't order her to stop.

I didn't point the gun at her head or anything. I let her think that she had a chance.

But then I heard more footsteps, so it was time to get serious.

I whirled her around, putting her back flush up against me and I put my arm around her throat.

I had no idea who to expect, and it was an exhilarating rush to see that it was _her_.

The sister.

Because I owed her payback and she'd been a thorn in my side when it came to getting Cathy to comply.

But it also made the situation a little more hairy because she was one tough bitch.

And I hadn't been able to take her by surprise like I had the husband, so I was going to have to deal with her head on.

I was going to have to scare her.

And that prospect was extremely arousing.

"Drop your weapon, or I'll kill her right now," I said as I placed the gun against Cathy's head.

I didn't really want to kill her, but I also wasn't going to lose my leverage.

However, the idea that I was holding a gun didn't seem to faze her.

She wasn't scared at all.

In fact, she was pointing her own gun at me.

_God, what a turn on_.

"It's a big step," she said. "Going from domestic abuse to murder."

Domestic abuse?

Why did everyone insist on calling it that?

How was it abuse if I was merely correcting unacceptable behavior?

It's not like I got off on doing it or anything.

Okay, well, maybe I did get off on it a little. But that didn't mean it was undeserved.

"Are you looking out for my well-being?" I asked her, still amazed by her calm demeanor.

"I'm looking out for everyone."

"I just came to take back what's mine," I told her simply.

Because that was the truth.

Cathy _was_ mine.

She'd come to me willingly and offered herself, and I sure as hell hadn't told her that it was time for her to leave.

And then, like a good little girl, Cathy said that she would go with me.

But I wasn't done with her sister.

I was having too much fun.

But since I didn't want to get shot while playing my little game, I ordered her to put down her gun.

And I reminded her that she _had_ cracked my ribs.

Because they hurt like a son of a bitch.

I wondered if she knew how it felt.

I wondered how much pain she could endure.

I wondered how loudly she would scream.

"Come on, Travis," Cathy said again. "Let's just go. I'll leave with you right now."

"You'll leave with me whenever the hell I say," I answered distractedly. Why did she have to go and interrupt my little fantasy?

"So while I appreciate the offer, Cathy," I continued in annoyance. "No we're _not_ going to leave them alone. And when I want your opinion, I'll give it to you. Got it?"

I was still holding the gun against her head, but I realized then that I hadn't taken off the safety.

I was embarrassed by the oversight, and as I slid it off, I saw _her_ watching me.

She knew that I'd made a mistake.

I could tell that she wanted to laugh at me, so I shoved the gun harder against Cathy's head and yelled at her to put down her gun.

"What's your plan, Travis?" she asked me. And she was still calm, but I had the upper hand now. Because she bent down and put her gun on the floor.

"What's my plan?" he repeated as I forced myself to pay attention to the conversation rather than the tempting glimpse of cleavage that was visible when she'd bent down. "Are you trying to play hostage negotiator with me now?"

But then she had to go and call me stupid.

And she talked to me as though I was a child.

She suggested that I hadn't thought through my plan.

And okay, I hadn't. She was right about that.

But I was enjoying how it was playing out.

I decided to see if I could make her scared.

If I could get her to lose that cool veneer, make her break down into tears.

So I pointed the gun at her instead.

"We can just end it all right now if you want," I told her.

The next words out of her mouth sent me from half-aroused to having a full blown hard-on.

Because I liked her. I liked her looks and I liked her spunk.

"Let her go and you can have me."

Oh, the possibilities. The things I could do to that tight little body once I showed her who was boss.

But did she mean it? Or was it some kind of trick?

"You. Just like that," I stated.

"Sure. One sister's as good as another, right? I'll go with you. Where do you want to go?"

Where did I want to go?

It didn't matter.

I just wanted to hurt her. And then fuck her.

But then the dickhead husband had to interrupt my thoughts. The last thing I needed was for him to wake up and try to play the hero.

"Cathy…" he mumbled.

"I'm here," she replied to my great shock.

She wanted to reassure him? What the fuck?

"Shut up!" I shouted. "I didn't tell you that you could talk!"

And then _she_ had to offer to help him.

What _was_ it about this loser that made women want to help him?

He managed to get onto his hands and knees and I couldn't resist giving him a good swift kick.

If he took it like a man, I might consider letting the sister tie him up, but he didn't.

He went straight back down to the floor.

Although my kick seemed to get Cathy fired up.

She started bucking against me, and I didn't really have a good hold on her any more, so I aimed my gun at _her _again.

Would she flinch this time?

No.

But Cathy quit struggling and I was able to adjust my grip.

"Hey, we had a deal on the table, remember?" the sister said. "You and me will leave together."

"That was your idea, not mine."

But oh, what a wonderful idea it was…it was nearly making me crazy considering all of the possibilities.

"But you like the sound of it, don't you?" she asked as she moved closer to me. And the sound of her voice pushed my need to the point of desperation. "Because I'll fight you harder than she will. You know I will. And isn't that what you really like?"

Yes. Yes it was, and yes she would.

I pushed into Cathy in an effort to alleviate the tremendous pressure that had built up, and I started to think of a way that I could have it all.

Because couldn't I have it all? I would just have to be careful, but…

"No," Cathy said quietly. And then to my amazement, she said it again, only this time more forcefully. "No."

"No? Are you talking to me?" I questioned. Because surely she had already learned _that_ lesson. "Since when do you tell me no?"

"I don't want you to take Alex. Take me."

It was all I could do not to smile because she was playing right into my hand. She would work harder to please me because she was jealous of her sister.

"I don't know," I taunted. "I think she's right. I think she'd be like a damn wildcat."

And she would be, too. She would fight me tooth and nail, but in the end, I'd satisfy us both.

Us _all_.

"I can be whatever you want," Cathy said.

Music to my ears.

"Please, Travis," she continued. "I love you. I want to be with you. I was just confused."

"Cathy," the sister said. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, Cathy, I think you do have to do this," I countered. "And Alex, I think you're gonna do it to."

"What?"

"That's right. I'm going to take both of you."

The valiant former husband tried to get up again at this point, but I stepped on his back, pushing him hard against the floor.

"You keep you face planted in this rug or I'll kill them both. You got me?"

"I got it," he grunted.

"Good."

Now I had to think.

Because I needed to tie them up to get them both out of here, but I hadn't brought anything with me.

And I couldn't stay here much longer because that kid would probably be home from school any minute.

And I didn't like kids, but that didn't mean I wanted to hurt one.

I mean, I'm not a monster or anything.

Aside from that, who knew where _her_ husband was? He was a big guy, and I wasn't going to wait around for him to show up either.

No one moved while I formulated my next course of action.

And that was exhilarating too.

They were all waiting for _me_ to decide what came next. They were waiting for _my_ orders.

I glanced around again, but then I noticed that _she_ was looking out the window.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I asked her as I raised the gun so that it was aimed at her head again.

"The window," she replied evenly.

"Why?"

"What do you want me to look at?" she asked, and her tone was bordering on insubordinate.

It was damn near antagonizing, and she was going to pay for that.

I dragged Cathy with me until I was within reach of her, and then I hit her across the face with the pistol.

"You look at _me_," I told her. "You got it? You fucking look at me."

She leveled her eyes onto mine, and for just a second, I felt a shot of fear roll through me.

Because the blow had barely fazed her.

Even though initially it had jerked her head to one side, she'd brought it back to midline immediately.

And she hadn't made a sound.

And the look that she was giving me…it was nothing like I'd ever seen from Cathy.

Or any other woman, for that matter.

"You fucking look at me," I said again boldly. "I want you to think about what I'm going to do to you."

She held my gaze, and her eyes were challenging.

I couldn't help but think how much fun it would be to break her.

But to be honest, she worried me a little.

Because instead of backing down, even in the slightest, she had the nerve to talk back to me.

"Actually, I'd rather think about what I'm going to do to you."

TBC...


	64. Chapter 64

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I didn't have the time or the patience to deal with any of Johnny's bullheadedness.

I had to find out what was going on inside that house and he could either get with the program or get out of my way.

He apparently decided to get with the program, because after I barked orders at him, he followed me across the sidewalk so that I could get a look through the windows.

And what I saw made my blood run cold.

I looked in, and there was Alex. And it was almost like I'd called out her name because as soon as my eyes fell on her, she looked back at me.

I could see Steve face down on the floor.

And Cathy was a couple of feet away with Travis draped around her back.

He had a gun.

I was surprised by that, and even more surprised when Travis stepped up to Alex and hit her in the face.

I felt the blow as if he'd hit me instead.

Johnny surged forward, ready to storm the house, but I grabbed him by the arm.

"We can't go in yet," I said, even though it pained me to wait.

"You're just going to stand out here and watch Alex get beat up by this creep? You might be able to do that, but I'm not."

"Look at her," I insisted. "She's okay."

"You're going to run the risk of him hitting her again? Or of him shooting her?"

"He's not going to shoot or he would have already."

Johnny stared at me incredulously, unable to fathom the idea that I wasn't going inside.

"Johnny, where is Nate?"

"I don't…I don't know," he admitted, looking through the window again.

"Exactly. And neither do I. We need to get a handle on the entire situation before we make a move. I didn't expect him to have a gun, so he's already acting beyond the scope of what I'd anticipated. I'm not going to run the risk of having Nate get hurt. Are you?"

"Well, no. But what about Alex?"

"Trust me. If he gets that close to her with his gun again, she'll take him out. He must have just caught her by surprise."

"She'll take him out? While he's armed?"

"That's what I'm saying," I explained. "He got too close, and he had it pointed downward because he hit her with the butt. If he tries that again, she'll take the gun."

I'd seen her do that very thing before.

And I also knew that she wouldn't want me to come riding in on my trusty steed just because she'd gotten hit one time.

Without knowing the full situation, I couldn't act accordingly.

I needed to wait and do some reconnaissance.

I needed to find out if anyone else had come with him.

And I needed to know where Nate was.

And while the professional side of me was sure about my course of action, the personal side of me was filled with fury and fear.

_When I got my hands on that bastard…_

**

* * *

**

Johnny POV

I couldn't believe he was going to be so calm about everything.

He was going to stand there while his wife got pummeled with a .357?

What kind of man was he?

But then he reminded me about Nate, and I felt a little guilty. I'd almost forgotten about my own grandson in my rush to save my daughter.

I was being short-sighted and letting my emotions dictate my actions.

He was not.

But still…surely there was a better solution that to just wait.

Because if I had to watch her take another hit like that…

And then I thought about Cathy.

Bobby had said that this guy had beaten her. So he'd done the same thing to her that he'd just done to Alex.

He'd hurt _both _of my girls.

He was as good as dead.

I couldn't tell from our vantage point whether or not Steve was still breathing, but Cathy looked fairly composed, so I had to guess that he was.

I watched Alex as she glared down her captor, and then as soon as he looked away from her, she looked back to the window.

Straight at Bobby.

I looked back and forth between the two of them as they stared at each other, and then he ducked below the window and looked at me.

"Nate's in his room upstairs," he said.

"How in the hell do you know that?" I asked him.

"Alex," he replied.

"Bobby!"

The sound was a harsh whisper from on the sidewalk and I looked up to see Lupo and Bernard.

I knew them from the last poker game. They were Ross' new super stars.

"Thank God," I muttered as they approached us. "Real cops."

"Lay it out," Lupo told Bobby.

In a couple of short, concise sentences, Bobby filled the two detectives in on what was going on.

"So how do you want to play it?" Bernard asked him.

"I thought you guys were the cops," I interjected.

Lupo looked at me sternly and then pointedly turned away from me to look at Bobby.

"Can you get up that tree?" Bobby asked him.

I watched Lupo as he eyeballed the large oak that stood in front of the structure. Its branches would take him up to the second floor window.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll get the boy. Connie's in the car. I'll take him to her."

And just like that, Lupo headed up into the tree.

"Okay. Bernard, you go around to the back entrance. Me and Johnny will go in the front. The suspect is armed, but he doesn't look comfortable with it. I think if we catch him by surprise, then he'll shoot at us rather than the hostages."

Hostages.

As if they weren't his family.

Although, how else was he supposed to think about them?

In fairness to him, he did look frazzled. His eyes were a little wild and his rate of breathing was increased.

Okay, so he wasn't unfeeling.

"I'll let Alex know that we're coming in and she can go at him from the inside. We need to get Cathy to get down on the floor so that she's not caught in any kind of crossfire."

"You're going to let her know? What, are you going to give her a call on her cell phone?"

Bernard looked at me sharply, and I felt instantly chastised even though he hadn't said a word.

And he was right to make me feel like that.

Even I could see that I was being an ass now.

Bobby had earned the respect of not only these two detectives, but of my daughter as well.

And my sons.

And my _other_ daughter.

Hell, he'd earned it from everyone except me and that was only because I was working so hard to hate him.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "You're right. You've been right about this whole thing. Do what you have to do."

So then I watched in amazement as he once again caught his wife's eye through the window.

Their silent communication was a testament not only to their working relationship, but to their personal bond as well. She knew how to anticipate his next move and how to read his every expression.

"Thirty seconds," Bobby said when he ducked down again.

Bernard hustled around the corner, heading for the back. I looked up into the tree, but Lupo was barely visible above the myriad of branches.

Which meant that he had to be near the second floor by now.

Which meant that Nate was safe.

I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Thank you," I said as I held out my wrist so that we could keep track of the seconds as they counted down.

"For what?"

"For protecting my family."

"I'm not just doing it for you. It's my family, too," he reminded me.

"Well, of course," I replied, surprised by his vehemence.

"I'm not trying to take anyone from you," he said with almost irritating understanding. "I just want to be part of it."

His quiet declaration was like a kick in the gut.

I hadn't just been being an ass.

I'd been being a first-class ass.

A real dickhead.

But there was no time for more discussion.

The thirty seconds was up.

It was time for me to get my girls.

I glanced at Bobby and saw his raw determination and pained expression.

Okay, so it was time for _us_ to get _our_ girls.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

It was an indescribable feeling that coursed through me when I saw Bobby through the window.

Relief. Happiness. Boosted confidence. Pride. Love.

Those adjectives just barely touched on the reality of how I felt.

And then Travis caught me looking.

Of course, he didn't know what or rather _who_ I was looking at.

His angle to the window created a glare on the glass. I knew that because a few minutes earlier, I'd been standing right where he was now.

But where I was now…well, I could perfectly see my prince charming.

And yeah, okay, so it's not like I was waiting to be rescued.

But I'll be honest. I've saved myself enough times to know that I _can_ do it.

I'm a fighter, and it was going to take a lot more than anything Travis had to get me to go down.

But it sure as hell didn't hurt my feelings in the least to know that Bobby was outside backing me up.

And my dad, which was weird.

I was very surprised to see him and I couldn't wait to hear how it had come to pass that he and Bobby were working together.

I wondered how many insults Bobby had to endure while deciding how best to storm the house.

Probably quite a few.

And maybe after this whole thing was over I needed to just sit my dad down and have a serious chat with him.

His resentment had gone on long enough.

But so Travis caught me looking, and he insisted that I look at him instead.

Please.

I'd had just about enough of him, and now that I knew he wasn't willing to set Cathy free and just take me, then I was done playing up to him.

My hope had been that he and I could leave the house together. If I didn't have anyone to worry about but myself, I could take him the second he let his guard down.

But having another person in the mix made it so much more dangerous to stage a revolt.

And it gave him the advantage because he could always threaten to hurt one as a way of subduing the other.

So yeah, I was done with my game.

I retorted smartly to his directive, and I was rewarded with a blow to the face by his pistol.

And damn, that hurt.

He'd hit me on the same side as he had yesterday when I'd gone to his apartment.

And I was irritated with myself for not expecting it.

Not with the gun anyway, because as soon as he turned the barrel of the gun toward the floor, I should've grabbed for it.

Any accidental firing would've penetrated the floor.

But I hadn't expected it.

"You fucking look at me," he said a second time. "I want you to think about what I'm going to do to you."

And my ears were ringing from the force of the blow, but I still glared him down anyway.

_Hit me with that gun again_, I willed silently. _Bring it on_.

"Actually, I'd rather think about what I'm going to do to you," I said to him.

I held his gaze until he finally looked away, presumably in search of something with which to tie us up, since the genius hadn't brought any supplies with him.

I quickly looked back toward Bobby and conveyed to him that Nate was upstairs.

I didn't want this thing to turn into the OK Corral while my nephew was lying on the floor in his room.

One shot into the ceiling from down here…no, definitely not.

I continued to glance surreptitiously at the window until I saw Bobby again.

He gave me a look of reassurance.

He had figured out how to protect Nate.

And then he let me know that it was almost time to end this crazy game.

We'd been in a similar situation to this just a couple of weeks ago, so I knew the drill.

Thirty seconds to show time.

"Get that fucking lamp and bring it over here," Travis said as the countdown began in my head.

Maybe he wasn't a complete moron after all.

He was going to try to use a cord to tie us up.

If he'd have thought of it half an hour ago, then it might have worked.

As it was, it meant that I had an excuse to be slightly further away from him when the fireworks went off.

But of course, he still had Cathy.

It was time to re-evaluate because I needed her to be in a safe spot.

"Yeah, okay. I'll get you a fucking lamp," I retorted quickly.

And I said it threateningly because I wanted him to be afraid of what I might do with it.

"Never mind. Come here," he said.

He roughly shoved Cathy away from him and then he grabbed me, pulling me tightly against him in a choke hold and putting the gun against my head.

"You get the lamp," he said to Cathy.

He was so easily manipulated.

Cathy looked back at me in confusion and I did my best to tell her what I needed her to know.

I shifted my eyes repeatedly to the floor.

But then she looked up. She was still worried about Nate.

I gave her a slight nod and then looked down at the floor again.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" Travis yelled at her.

"I'm sorry," she replied quickly.

"See? She's sorry," he said quietly to me. He used his gun hand to stroke up and down my arm and then he stuck his nose against the back of my head as though he was smelling me. "You could learn a lot from her."

"Oh, I'm sorry too," I told him as my silent countdown breached five seconds.

He pushed his hips against me and then kissed the side of my face.

"What are you sorry for, baby?"

"I'm sorry that it's not going to be me who gets to kill you."

He reared back from me in baffled concern and a split second later, the front door flew open.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cathy hit the floor, doing exactly as I'd instructed.

Travis tightened his grip around my throat and jammed the gun harder against my temple.

He was scared, I could tell, but his words were brave.

Or stupid.

"Come one step closer, and I'll kill her."

TBC...


	65. Chapter 65

**Lupo POV**

* * *

As we pulled up near Steve's house, I saw Bobby and Johnny Eames huddled beneath a window.

"He must be here," I said unnecessarily.

We'd expected that he would be, but now the proof was staring us in the face.

"Lupo, you have to get him," Connie said earnestly.

"I will," I promised.

I looked at her after I cut off the car, and saw that the area around her eye was starting to swell.

Then I noticed her hand. She held both of them in her lap, and one was somewhat cradling the other.

The knuckles on her right hand were swollen and red.

The anger bubbled up inside of me again, and I forced myself to stay professional.

But I would get him for what he'd done to her if nothing else.

And believe me, there was plenty else.

"Stay in the car," I told her.

I hated that it sounded like I was bossing her around, especially now that I knew the type of man she'd had at some point in her past, but it had to be said.

I reached out and touched her arm to soften the severity of my words.

"I know," she said quickly. "I will. Go."

So Bernard and I got out of the car and hustled across the street.

"Bobby!" I called out in a rough whisper.

"Thank God," I heard Johnny mutter as we approached them. "Real cops."

His sentiment instantly pissed me off.

I remembered how he'd treated Bobby at the last poker game and I decided right then that I wasn't going to tolerate him being disrespectful.

So I purposely ignored him while I looked at Bobby.

"Lay it out."

It was pretty simple.

Travis was inside with the entire Stromer family and Alex.

Steve was hurt.

Nate was upstairs.

And Travis had a gun.

"So how do you want to play it?" Bernard asked Bobby, and I loved that he'd picked up on my lead of letting Bobby be in charge.

"I thought you guys were the cops," Johnny said.

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes at him. Was this guy for real? We were in a crisis situation with lives at risk and he wanted to take pot shots at his son-in-law?

But I held my tongue and instead waited for Bobby's instructions.

"Can you get up that tree?" he asked me.

I looked up and silently calculated how many years it had been since I'd climbed a tree.

Too many.

But I could do it.

Hopefully without breaking my ass.

Because Bobby was going to entrust me with the safety of his nephew, so I'd find a way to get the job done.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll get the boy. Connie's in the car. I'll take him to her."

And then without hesitation, I jumped up and grabbed onto the lowest limb, pulling my legs up and over its thickness and then hauling myself up.

It was easier than I thought it would be. It was a perfect climbing tree, with evenly spaced branches that were thick enough to more than hold my weight.

I should tell Steve about that later because when Nate got older, he could use this tree to sneak out of the house.

Now _that_ was something I'd done a time or two as a kid.

By the time I reached the window, I realized something.

Nate didn't know me.

Not at all.

And the last thing I needed was to frighten him and have him make noise or run out of the room.

So I pulled out my badge and lightly knocked on the window.

When he turned around to look at me, I held it up against the glass with one hand, and with the other, I held a finger to my lips.

He came over and looked at the badge curiously and then eased open the window.

"You have to be quiet," I whispered.

"You're a cop?"

"Uh huh. I know your Aunt Alex and Uncle Bobby."

"Why are you in the tree?"

_Very good question_, I thought, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"There's a bad man down stairs," I said, deciding to go for honesty. The kid looked too smart to try anything else. "Bobby sent me up here to get you so that you'll be safe."

"Is Uncle Bobby going to be safe, too?"

"Yes. Absolutely," I assured him. "But we need to hurry. Can you come out here with me?"

Because I really didn't want him to be standing in that room if and when the gunfire started.

People don't always realize how easily .45 ammunition can travel through sheetrock.

He looked hesitant for a minute, and I was simultaneously impressed with his uncertainty about trusting a stranger and panicked at the thought that he might not come willingly.

If I had to drag him out, then he and I might both end up on the ground.

"What's the code word?" he asked me, and my heart sank.

Code word?

I had no freaking idea.

"I'm sorry, Nate. I don't know it. Bobby didn't tell me."

"I'm not supposed to trust you if you don't know the code word."

"And that is a great plan. Really, it is. But things happened kind of quickly today, and I think your uncle was a little distracted when he asked me to come up here. Can you ask me something else? Something that will prove to you that I'm friends with them?"

I was really starting to panic now.

What could he ask me that I would know? I knew Bobby and Alex, but well enough to answer trivia questions that their nephew would know?

"Look, Nate, we really need to hurry. I'm not sure how to make you trust me, but…oh! I got it. Bobby told me that you're reading _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ right now, and he said that you really like the way he does the voice of Aslan."

My reward was an instant smile and full compliance.

And it was complete dumb luck that I knew about the story.

Bobby had mentioned it to Connie in passing while they were driving to Maryland the other day, and then she had said something about it to me.

But whatever.

I wasn't going to argue about it.

The boy came out of the window and we were halfway down the tree when I heard the first shot ring out from inside of the house.

It was coupled with the sound of shattering glass and my sense of urgency tripled.

I grabbed a hold of Nate and jumped the final ten feet down to the ground.

I landed hard and I felt something pop in my knee, but I managed to keep my feet under me and then I ran with the boy to the car.

Four more shots sounded while I crossed the distance, and I kept Nate shielded with my body as best as I could in case anything came in our direction.

Connie opened the car door and I skidded to a halt in front of her, transferring the boy into her arms and then pulling out my gun.

"I've got him," she said hurriedly. "Go, go!"

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

Waiting those thirty seconds felt more like years.

I wanted to be in there.

I _needed_ to be in there.

But the thirty seconds would give Lupo time. Not a lot, but enough to at least get Nate out of the window.

And he'd be a hell of a lot safer in the tree with Lupo than in his bedroom.

The thirty seconds would also give Bernard time to get to the back of the house and assess the point of entry.

I had no doubt that he'd kick it in if he needed to.

And he probably would need to.

Steve and Cathy were fanatical about keeping their doors locked.

But Bernard could do it.

I'd sent him alone around back for a few reasons.

One, I didn't want him to have to deal with Johnny.

Two, I wanted to go through the front entrance because that was the closest to where they were being held.

And three, I didn't want Johnny to go through _either_ entrance alone because I couldn't let anything happen to him.

Having him here was a mixed blessing because I was happy to have the extra firepower, but I also had to protect him.

As the seconds slowly ticked off, I thought about the layout.

They were in the living room.

And although it was possible that they could've moved during our half-minute wait, it was unlikely.

As it stood, he was near the center of the room holding onto Cathy, Steve was on the floor, and Alex was about three feet to his right.

And Travis had been holding Cathy with his left arm, which made it more difficult.

That meant that he was between her and Alex, which meant that my shot would have to be a whole lot more accurate.

If he'd been on the outside, I could've aimed wide.

Now if I aimed wide, I might hit Alex.

_So don't fucking aim wide_, I reminded myself harshly. _Just kill him_.

"When we get in, I'll keep Travis covered from the front. You circle around to the right," I told Johnny. And then I added, "And let me do the talking."

Although I was pretty sure that there wasn't going to be any talking. Travis was beyond that point.

If he was going to give up, he would've done it by now. Alex would've talked him into it.

The fact that he was still holding them prisoner meant that he was going to play this thing out until the end.

To my great pleasure and surprise, Johnny gave me a sharp nod of agreement in response to my directives.

And if he was nervous, he didn't show it.

_A career cop_, I reminded myself.

"Don't shoot unless you're sure," I said unnecessarily.

He opened his mouth, surely to say some kind of smart reply, but then he closed it and just nodded again.

And then it was time.

We burst through the door.

Johnny shifted to the right, and I could hear Bernard entering from the rear. I couldn't see him yet, but I knew the design of the house, and I knew that he'd have his sights on the back of Travis' head.

Although he obviously wouldn't be able to shoot just yet, not without hitting…Alex.

_It was Alex_, I realized with a start.

She'd managed to trade positions with Cathy.

Now that I hadn't expected, and it caused me to momentarily stand frozen in the doorway while Johnny drifted to the right.

"Come one step closer, and I'll kill her," Travis declared.

Johnny stopped moving at Travis' words, and the extra second that passed while Travis focused on my father-in-law allowed me to get my feet back underneath me.

_This didn't change anything_, I reminded myself.

Because I wouldn't risk Cathy's life any more than I would Alex's.

"I mean it," Travis said when Johnny leaned as though to take another step. "Don't move."

Then he looked back at me and I guess that maybe he thought I would try to negotiate.

Maybe he'd watched one too many cop movies, I don't know, but apparently he wasn't watching the right ones.

Because I wasn't going to give him the opportunity to make anyone in this room a gunshot victim except him.

I silently thanked whoever was listening for the fact that Alex had chosen low-heeled boots today, because that meant that Travis was about four inches taller than her.

Johnny played it smart.

He read my intentions just like Alex would do.

He knew that I had the better angle at the moment, so he moved slightly again to pull Travis' attention back to him.

I aimed carefully.

_You can do this_, I encouraged myself.

But four inches didn't seem like quite so much when I was looking through the sights on my gun.

Suddenly, Travis swung his focus back to me, and when he realized that I was getting ready to shoot, he took the gun away from Alex's head and fired at me.

It went high, zooming over my head and shattering the glass above the front door.

With the gun no longer pressed to her head, Alex tried to twist away from him, ducking low and moving to the side.

I returned fire.

As did Johnny.

And Bernard.

It was all over within five seconds.

"Alex!" I shouted as I ran toward where she and Travis had both gone down to the ground.

I was sure that she'd hit the floor of her own accord, but I needed to be _really_ sure.

"I'm okay," she called back.

She rolled away from her captor, and then got to her knees.

That's as far as she got before I reached her and pulled her up to her feet and into my arms.

Normally, protocol would direct that the suspect be checked first, but I knew that Bernard would take care of that.

And I didn't think that it would take him more than a second.

Because I'd glanced at his face and it didn't look as though any of us had missed.

TBC...


	66. Chapter 66

**Lupo POV**

* * *

As I ran toward the house, I thought about calling it in.

I mean, there was gunfire.

The 3-4 would be the responding precinct and they had no dog in this fight.

It would be the smart thing to do.

But I just couldn't pause for those extra few seconds that it would take me to do so.

I had to be sure that everyone was okay first.

_Then_ I'd call it in.

I would still tell them to take over the scene so that there was no perception of impropriety.

And of course, I'd call Ross.

But for now…I just needed to see inside.

And my fucking knee felt like it was on fire so it wasn't cooperating exactly as I'd hoped, but I managed to get up the steps and into the doorway within about five seconds of the end of the gunfire.

Bernard was on one knee next to Travis' body, checking for a pulse. Although, there was no doubt in my mind that he was dead.

Bobby was holding onto Alex as though his life depended on it.

I could understand that.

I could _definitely_ understand that.

Cathy was helping Steve up off the floor, but she was looking toward the stairwell.

"Nate!" she shouted.

"I got him," I assured her quickly. "He's safe. He's outside with Connie."

Steve looked shaky, as though his legs might not stay under him, but despite that, he and Cathy both headed out the door in search of their son.

I pointed them in the right direction, and when Connie saw me pointing, she got out of the car with Nate.

I stepped back inside of the house.

Johnny stood off to the right, and seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. His eyes shifted from the man on the floor to me and then back again.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. And then he handed me his gun.

"You made the shot?"

"We all did," Bernard said, stepping up behind me. He also handed over his weapon, so I set both guns down on the side table and pulled out my phone to call it in.

It wasn't a good thing when a suspect ended up dead, but considering the circumstances, this was about the best outcome we could've hoped for.

No one was hurt except for the perp.

Or at least, not seriously hurt.

Bobby finally released Alex, and I could see that she'd taken a good whack to the side of the face.

And Steve could probably use some medical attention as well, but other than that…well, I'd take it. It certainly could've been worse.

"Cap," I said when Ross answered.

I'd decided to let him know first.

After all, Bernard and I had blown out of the squad room earlier without a word.

"Tell me what's going on," he said calmly.

* * *

Cathy POV

The aftermath of the gun fight had me feeling weak-kneed and nauseous.

There were too many people to worry about…too many loved ones who'd been in the line of fire.

I did a quick scan of the room as I got to my feet.

I had trouble assimilating the fact that my dad was standing in my living room with a gun in his hand, but I couldn't think about that right now. I helped Steve to his feet as I looked up toward the stairs. I hadn't heard a peep out of Nate during the entire episode.

"Nate!" I called out loudly.

"I got him," I was told by a cop who had just come into the house. "He's safe. He's outside with Connie."

Connie? The ADA?

Whatever.

He was safe, so that was all that mattered.

I held on tightly to Steve's arm, because he seemed as though he might not be able to stand without some assistance, and the cop pointed in the direction of a car that was parked up the street.

I saw the ADA get out, and then there was Nate.

Relief flooded through me at an incredible rate.

He was okay.

And Steve was hurt, but okay.

So physically, it seemed as though we were all going to come out of this just fine.

But emotionally…well, that remained to be seen.

There was so much to consider that my head felt like it was going to explode.

I continued to hold on to Steve as we hurried toward our son, and then together, we pulled him into a hug.

"Me and Lupo jumped out of the tree," he told me, his voice barely audible since Steve and I had him sandwiched between us, with Nate's face plastered against my stomach.

He adjusted himself so that his cheek rested against me, and then continued, "And he didn't know the code word, but Connie said that you wouldn't be mad about that. Are you? Are you mad?"

"No, honey," I assured him quickly. "No, I'm not mad. You did great."

The tears that I'd been battling for what felt like forever finally came rushing out.

_I _caused this.

I caused _all_ of this.

How in the world was Steve ever going to forgive me for bringing that dangerous man into our lives?

I mean, sure, he was dead now.

That was a small consolation considering the damage that could've been done.

And who had killed him?

Bobby?

My dad?

I'd forced one of them to take a life.

One _more _thing to add to my bushel full of guilt.

I caught Steve's eye over top of Nate's head and to my surprise, I saw no anger or rebuke.

And he still had his arms around me, which I took as a good sign.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "It's not enough. I know that it's not nearly enough, but…"

"We'll talk, okay?" he interrupted gently. "Later."

* * *

Ross POV

My joy at watching Logan obtain Harker's confession was short-lived.

Because as soon as I congratulated him on conducting such an outstanding interrogation, I got a call from Lupo.

And it only took him saying _Cap_ for me to realize that something was afoot.

He gave me a brief rundown and then handed the phone off to Bobby, who apparently had more information.

"The suspect is dead?" I confirmed.

"Yes, sir."

"And everyone else is okay?"

"Mostly."

"Okay. Lupo's going to report it to the 3-4 and I'll get a bus out there. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"A bus?" Mike questioned when I hung up the phone.

"They're fine," I said quickly. "I'll explain in the car."

"I'm coming, too," Liz said.

"You won't get any argument from me."

I directed an ambulance to the address that Bobby had given me and then the four of us hurried down to the parking garage.

As we were pulling out, my phone rang.

It was the commissioner.

"I need you in my office," he told me.

"Can it wait?" I asked.

And I'm not sure from where I gathered the audacity to ask the man to wait.

After all, not only was he my boss, but he was also currently still in the selection process for the next chief of D's.

I should be jumping through hoops to please him.

But for some reason, I felt no urge to do so.

Right now, I needed to make sure that things went smoothly at the Stromer home.

A man was dead, shot by one of my detectives, a consultant, and a retired cop. And that man was hated by everyone involved in the case.

Lupo said that he'd hit Connie.

He'd hurt Cathy.

And Alex.

Was it a coincidence that two of the men who'd done the shooting were related to the assault victims?

And it wasn't that I was mourning for Travis.

From what I knew of him, the result of his crime spree was a fitting end.

I just wished it had only been Bernard who'd done the shooting.

At least he was slightly removed from the case.

Barely.

Although actually, not really.

I'd just have to let the 3-4 do their job.

While I stood close watch and made sure to correct any mistaken assumptions that they might make.

"You're asking me to wait?" he repeated. "While you do what?"

"There's been a situation. I'll give you a full report when I come to your office," I told him.

"And when will that be?"

"I'm not sure. Give me a couple of hours and then I'll check back with you."

I hung up without waiting for a response.

"You just hung up on the commissioner?" Carolyn asked me.

"What's he going to do, fire me?"

"He might," Liz said. Although I could tell that she wasn't bothered by that prospect in the least.

"If he does, then you'll hire me, right?" I joked to Mike and Carolyn.

Mike laughed out loud, but then nodded.

"I think that could be a lot of fun."

* * *

Connie POV

From where I'd sat in the car, I'd been able to see Lupo as he climbed the tree.

I'd like to watch him do that again under different circumstances because I think that I was a little too freaked out to fully appreciate his masculine display of athleticism.

As it was, I stared blankly until he was out of my line of sight.

He nearly scared me half to death when he dropped to the ground a split second after the first shot rang out, but then he'd come running toward me with the boy, so I'd opened the door.

"I've got him. Go, go!" I encouraged.

And I wondered at my own sanity as I watched the man I loved running, at my behest, headlong into a gunfight.

Although he'd have gone whether I encouraged him or not and I loved his fearlessness.

I'd chatted with Nate in an effort to keep him relaxed. I told him how I knew his aunt and uncle, and I gave him a g-rated version of what might be going on in the house.

I only half-focused on my words while the rest of me was listening for the sound of more gun shots.

Things were quiet.

Nate stayed fairly calm, but I was still grateful when after only a couple of minutes, I saw Lupo pointing in my direction.

I got out of the car with the boy and then eased myself out of the way of the happy family reunion.

Instead, I headed for the front of the house.

I entered the home to a bloody scene.

Travis was dead on the floor in the middle of the living room. I stared at him for a minute, trying to make myself feel something.

Pity.

Sadness.

Compassion.

_Something_.

I mean, this was a human being.

But I didn't feel any of that.

I'm not sure what kind of person that made me.

"Hey," Lupo said quietly, tugging on my arm to get me to look at him.

When I'd first come in, he'd been talking to Ross, but now I saw that he'd handed off his phone to Bobby.

"Hey," I answered numbly, shifting my gaze back to Travis.

"Let's step outside," he said. "I need to call the 3-4, but then we'll just have to wait for them, and there's nothing that says we have to stay in the house."

He guided me back toward the door and together we stepped out onto the front porch.

I gave him my phone, since Bobby was still using his, and he quickly made the call to the precinct with jurisdiction.

"You did good," I told him when he finished. "Everyone made it out okay."

"I didn't have much to do with that."

"You made sure the boy was safe," I said, and then I realized that he was standing with all of his weight shifted to one side. "And you hurt yourself. What did you do?"

"It's nothing," he replied dismissively. "I think I might have done something to my knee. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I'm glad he's dead," I said abruptly.

He looked at me carefully for a minute and then brought his hand up to my cheek.

"Me, too," he agreed. "He would've kept after her."

"I wish I could have done something differently. Kept his bail revoked or found a way to press additional charges…there's a huge loophole in the law for guys like him."

"Uh huh," he agreed.

"You don't think anyone's going to get in trouble for this, do you? It was a good shoot, right?"

"He fired first," he told me with a nod. "That was the first shot we heard that broke through the window above the door. After that, the other three fired. Bobby got off two rounds and the other two got off one each. I don't know which one did him in, but I'd wager that any of the four would've done it."

"So the 3-4 is coming," I said. And suddenly I felt tired. This day had been long and was only going to get longer. "And Ross. And an ambulance, I hope. And the ME. We're going to be here all night."

The idea depressed me.

Lupo had asked me to dinner this morning, although in all honesty, it felt like weeks ago.

"Maybe," he agreed, and he seemed sad about that, too.

He looked at me for a long time, rubbing his thumb absently against my cheek.

"You know, this is our life," he said softly. "It's always going to be like this. Sometimes it's you…a lot of times it's me…but you know, I don't see it getting much different any time soon."

"I know."

"Are you okay with that?" he asked me, and I suddenly felt like this wasn't just a random question.

He was serious, and he was asking me more than what his words were saying.

"I would rather be at a grisly crime scene with you than anywhere without you."

He smiled at that, and I hoped that he knew that I meant it.

He looked around briefly, and I wondered if he was worried that I was standing too close while he was working.

He dropped his hand from my face and put it in his pocket, so I took a step back.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "We are working."

"We're not," he said, although he kept his eyes looking at the ground. At last he brought them up to meet mine and he said, "We're on a break."

"Okay," I said uncertainly.

"So…"

"So…"

"Connie, I…I need to…" he stopped and scrubbed at his stubbled face with one hand while he kept the other one firmly in his pocket. Then he looked skyward and mumbled, seemingly to himself. "Why is this so hard?"

"What is it?" I asked him.

"Hey Lupes," Bernard called out. "Can you…"

"I'm _making_ time here, Bernard," Lupo interrupted sharply.

I was surprised by his tone, but even more surprised when I looked at Bernard and he smiled before stepping quickly back into the house.

"Lupo, what's going on?" I asked when I turned back toward him.

He held out his hand to me, palm up, and in his hand was a ring.

"This is probably the absolute worst timing imaginable," he said. "But I can't wait any more and it doesn't seem like circumstances are going to let me romance you, so…please. Connie, will you marry me?"

TBC...


	67. Chapter 67

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It could've been a whole lot worse.

But as it was, the situation at Steve and Cathy's house was handled quickly and efficiently by the local precinct.

After that, IAB was called in to deal with the officer-involved shooting aspect.

And of course, Ross was there throughout the entire ordeal and he'd stood firmly behind his detectives.

The DA was called in as well, at which point Connie had stepped up on our behalf. She had the supporting documentation which outlined Travis' prior behavior, in addition to her statement as to his state of mind earlier in the day.

So ultimately, we were all cleared of any wrong-doing and we were finally allowed to go home.

Johnny had been a little shaken by the ordeal, but I wasn't sure which aspect had him the most off-kilter.

Was it because he'd just learned that his daughter had been in an abusive extra-marital relationship?

Or because he'd had a hand in killing the man?

It was hard to say for sure.

Even harder since I decided to avoid talking to him after the incident.

After being released by the DA, IAB _and_ the 3-4, Alex told Johnny goodbye and then the two of us headed for the door.

"Bobby," he called out to me.

I paused with my back to him and took a deep breath.

I was exhausted.

And sick.

And I just wanted to go home with Alex.

I wasn't up for any kind of confrontation.

I finally turned toward him and was surprised to find an expression of openness and humility on his face.

"We need to talk," he said. "Not tonight. But soon, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll call you."

At his skeptical look, I added, "This week."

So we made the rounds, telling everyone goodbye. We also made a point of mentioning that we wouldn't be answering either phone until at least Thursday.

Cathy and Steve told us that they'd be getting a hotel for the night.

I didn't ask whether it would be one room or two. They were probably still in too much shock to worry about their personal issues just yet.

Those would come after a day or two had passed.

For now, they were just grateful that everyone was safe, and so was I.

When we first got home, we each fussed over the other.

"You need to take some more medicine," she said.

"You need to put some ice on your face," I told her.

"I will. You first," she said, getting some pills from the cabinet and handing them to me.

I quickly swallowed them without even looking to see what I was taking and then I went to the freezer and pulled out an ice pack.

"Bobby, I'm fine," she argued.

I shushed her, which she took surprisingly well, and then eased the ice against her enflamed face.

"Just for a few minutes," I said. "And then you can take some ibuprofen."

"Anything else, sir?" she asked with mock annoyance.

"Yes. After that, I expect you to be naked and in our bed. Do you have a problem with that?"

She closed her eyes and put her hand over top of mine where it rested against the ice pack.

"No," she said quietly.

I could just imagine that her whole head was throbbing, not to mention the myriad of emotions that were probably running through her mind.

So I wrapped one arm around her and held her close as we stood together in the kitchen.

I stayed quiet and waited to see what was foremost on her mind.

"Tell me what happened at Rikers," she said after a few minutes.

"I did," I said, surprised that that had been her first comment. "Moran didn't know about anything, but he agreed to talk to Harker. But you heard what Carolyn said. Logan got Harker to confess, so now we don't need Moran for anything."

"I know all of that," she said softly.

"Then what do you…" I began, but then I stopped.

"I'm sorry that I didn't go with you," she said after my prolonged silence. "I should have."

"No, you did what you needed to do. And it wasn't really that bad."

"Are you sure?"

"It just…well, it made me think. He made some comment about the fact that Harker's step-father never paid any attention to him. He said that the man had an issue raising another man's son."

"And that got you thinking about your dad."

"How could it not? I mean, is that what ultimately drove him away? He realized that I wasn't his. He probably couldn't stand the sight of me once he knew that I was living proof of her affair."

"Now you know that's not true. Your father loved you. He may not have known the best way to show it, but he did. In fact, maybe walking away was how he showed it."

"That's a display of love?"

She pulled back a little so that she could look at me, but I continued to hold the ice against her face.

"Maybe he didn't trust himself to treat you without bias," she continued. "You deserved to grow up without being resented for what you represented. He wasn't sure if he could do that, so…I don't know. I think maybe that means he loved you quite a bit. I mean, if he didn't, then he wouldn't have cared so much. And it wouldn't have hurt so much. As it was, it had to be a tremendous blow to find out that you were technically another man's son."

"A better man would've stepped up and continued to do the job," I argued gently.

I wasn't upset about it.

Not too much.

It had just brought up some long-dormant feelings.

"And a lesser man would've taken out his anger on you," she countered.

"So he was somewhere the middle," I stated.

"That's what I think."

She held my gaze as she put her hand on my arm, encouraging me to remove the ice pack.

"Come on. Let's go to bed," she said.

So we each stripped down and climbed into the bed.

I felt achy and tired, but my mind was awake.

I continued to think about my dad.

And then I thought about Alex's dad.

The love that he had for his kids was unquestionable.

And sure, he drove them all crazy with his constant need to meddle in their lives, but why did he do it?

Because he cared enough to be involved.

He wanted to take care of them and protect them, even though they were grown.

"So how bad did Dad freak out when you told him what was going on?" she asked me, her mind having obviously gone down the same path as mine.

"Not too much," I replied on a chuckle. "I kind of bossed him around."

"And he took it?"

"Yeah, he did. I'm thinking that he must have been a pretty damn good cop in his day."

"Yes he was," she agreed with a smile. "People tend to forget that, considering what happened later."

"Everyone makes mistakes," I replied. "It doesn't change the work he did for more than thirty years."

"You're being awfully complimentary of him," she said. "After the way that he's treated you, I'm not sure that he deserves it."

"He's just looking out for you. I can't fault him for that."

Our conversation trailed off at that point as the medication did its job and I drifted off to sleep.

The sunlight was flooding into the room when I opened my eyes again.

Alex had her back to me, so I slid my hand around her waist and pulled her up against me.

I wasn't in any hurry to get up.

In fact, we'd vowed to do just the opposite.

Not get up at all.

And feeling her warm skin and her immediate acceptance of my body molded to hers, well…let's just say that even if we had pressing business to attend to, I wouldn't be getting out of this bed any time soon.

I ran my fingers slowly over her thighs as she let out a relaxed sigh.

"Are you going to go back and talk to Moran again?" she asked, and despite the randomness of the question, I could tell that I was getting her worked up.

Any minute now, she was going to shift her leg to allow me better access.

"Yes," I replied.

I kissed her shoulder and then moved my lips up to the back of her neck.

"Why? You don't owe him explanation."

"He deserves to know what's going on with his son. He hates us…all of us…but he wasn't behind any of this. And he seemed ashamed to learn that his son was the responsible party. In the end, he was willing to do the right thing."

"I'll go with you."

"You don't have to. I'm a big boy."

"You would do the same, if the situation were reversed," she reminded me, and then she moved her leg, just as I'd anticipated.

I couldn't stop the smug smile, and I was glad that she still had her back to me and couldn't see it.

"That's true."

Despite our conversation, my focus was narrowing down to just her.

I wasn't too upset about the Moran thing anymore.

Or about either of our fathers.

"So I'm coming with you," she said, her voice barely a whisper now.

She was losing her focus, too, concentrating instead on what my hands were doing.

I smiled a little bigger.

"I won't argue with you. You know that I'd always rather be with you than without you," I told her, and as I said the words, I pushed into her from behind.

She let out a low moan, but managed to say, "Always?"

"One hundred percent of the time," I insisted.

I held her hips in my hands and kept us at an agonizingly slow pace.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were random sighs and the occasional words of encouragement.

I was losing my ability to keep it slow, but I also didn't want to finish without being able to see her face, so we shifted positions until she was sitting on top of me.

The leisurely rhythm was gone, replaced instead by a feeling of fierce intensity, so I put my hands on her thighs and encouraged an even faster pace.

Alex has this thing that she sometimes does when we're in this position. I don't know where she learned it.

I'm not sure that I want to know.

But I'm quite sure that at some point, this is what's going to kill me.

I'm literally going to have a heart attack from the intense pleasure brought on by this…thing that she does.

And she did it this morning.

So it wasn't much longer at all before I was yelling her name at the top of my lungs while my vision clouded over with a series of black spots and I had no feeling left in my toes.

But I'm not a selfish lover. Despite my near-death experience, I brought her along with me.

"You know you're going to kill me with that, don't you?" I asked her when we'd finished, although I don't think my smile could get any bigger.

_What a way to go_.

"I know CPR," she mumbled as she stretched out on top of me. "I'll bring you back to life."

"Good to know," I said agreeably.

I held onto her for several minutes while we each fought to catch our breath, and then she moved off of me and got up out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" I asked. "Twenty-four hours, remember?"

"I'll be back," she promised.

True to her word, she returned five minutes later with provisions. She gave me another handful of pills as she climbed back into the bed.

"You still feel hot," she told me. "If you're not better this afternoon, you're going to the doctor."

"You're coming with me, right?"

"Of course."

We snuggled back under the covers and before long, I was back asleep.

I never slept so much as a single man as I do now that I'm married.

It must have something to do with being sexually satisfied.

Or emotionally satisfied.

Or maybe it's just that I like having her next to me.

But in truth, it was probably a combination of all three.

Throughout the course of the day, we intermittently talked and slept.

And we made love twice.

Despite the fact that we'd sworn off telephones for the day, in the early evening hours, we broke down and used the phone to order a pizza.

But that was it.

We didn't turn on the ringer. We didn't check messages.

We ate the pizza in bed, and then we each took another dose of medication. Me for my sinuses and her for her face, which had settled down as far as the swelling went, but was now quite colorful.

"So, Rikers tomorrow?" she asked me once we were settled in for the night.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I want to get it out of the way. And I need to call your dad, too. I promised."

"I know. But I don't want you to feel like you have to make nice with him. He's been pretty hard to get along with and you shouldn't be the only one making the effort at peace."

"He's scared," I told her.

"Of what?"

"Of losing you. That he's already lost you. And it's just a cycle. He doesn't know what to do, so he lashes out. And then you push him away, so then he lashes out more. It's time to break the cycle."

We were quiet for a few minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

"I think I'm going to do a poker game Friday night," I told her.

"That sounds nice," she murmured.

She was clearly almost asleep, so I let the conversation drop and instead just ran my fingers through her hair until I drifted off yet again.

Thursday morning.

Barely more than thirty-six hours after the shooting at Steve and Cathy's house.

The day of rest made it feel like much more time had passed.

We might have to do this twenty-four hour thing more often.

I felt refreshed and I even thought that maybe I had kicked the infection.

The thought crossed my mind of what I wanted to say to Johnny today, but then I forced that from my brain.

He did not belong in my head when I had Alex in my arms.

Not when she was running her fingers across the sensitive skin of my upper thigh.

"You're not quite so hot this morning," she said quietly from her position against my chest.

"You know, that really hurts," I teased. "Not even three months into the marriage and you're already criticizing my looks."

She chuckled softly and shifted so that every inch of her was up against me.

"You know what I mean. Are you feeling better?"

"I'm feeling pretty good right about now."

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her hands roaming aimlessly over my skin.

And then we both let out a collective groan when we heard a loud knock on the door.

"I guess our day of solitude is over," she said wistfully. "I'll get it."

She rolled out of bed and reached for some clothes. I watched her as she got dressed, but then I got up, too, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

I wasn't going to just lie in the bed while we had visitors.

The knocking increased, in volume and intensity.

"Just a minute!" Alex called out as she walked down the hall.

I checked the clock and saw that it was after ten, so I guess I couldn't be too annoyed about having a visitor.

But still…I'd been minutes away from receiving a considerable amount of pleasure from my very generous wife.

I wondered idly how fast we'd be able to get rid of whoever had come a-calling.

"Who is it?" I asked her as she stepped up to the door.

She looked through the peephole, and her declaration was the equivalent of me taking a cold shower.

"It's my dad."

TBC...


	68. Chapter 68

**Johnny POV**

* * *

I couldn't sleep Tuesday night.

I sat in the den with a bottle of Jameson's next to me and I thought about everything that had happened.

I wasn't sure what it said about me that I wasn't upset about taking part in killing that man.

Although it _was_ good to realize that my feelings about the end result wouldn't be any different if it _hadn't_ been my family who was in danger at the time.

As far as I was concerned, he'd asked for what he got the minute he pulled a gun inside of someone else's home.

So it wasn't the firing of my weapon that was on my mind.

It was my son-in-law.

"Are you coming to bed, Johnny?" my wife asked me.

And I could tell by the tone of her voice that she already knew the answer.

"I'll be up in a little bit," I lied.

She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead and then headed for the stairs.

It wouldn't be the first night that I'd slept in the den. Over the years, this couch had been my friend on many occasions.

Sometimes due to some silly argument between Mary and myself, and sometimes simply because I didn't feel worthy to climb into bed next to her.

Tonight would likely be the latter.

"You like him, don't you?" I asked her when she was half way up. I didn't have to explain to her who I meant. She knew who was on my mind.

"Yes," she said, pausing on the stairs but not turning around.

"Why? We've barely seen her since they've been together."

"I know. But when we have…well, she's been happier than I've ever seen her in her entire life. Even when she's fussing at you or making excuses to leave our house early…underneath it all, she's truly happy. And that's because of him."

After her statement, she continued up the stairs, leaving me alone with my Irish whiskey.

For Mary, that was the equivalent of a smackdown.

In her pleasant, understated way, she'd just told me that I was being an idiot.

And after today, I couldn't argue with her.

I'd watched the man handle himself in a crisis.

I'd watched him shove down personal feelings in an effort to remain objective.

And I knew that was hard.

Hell, _I_ couldn't do it.

Not at first anyway.

Not when I'd seen Alex get hit.

And I realized now that it wasn't a statement on his feelings for my daughter.

Because I knew that he loved her.

And if I was honest with myself, I knew that he loved her deeply, beyond all reason.

Theirs was the kind of relationship that would stand the test of time, like the one between me and my Mary.

So I sat alone in the dark and drank my liquor and I thought about the things that I needed to say to Bobby.

And then I thought about Cathy.

There was plenty that needed to be said to her, too.

What had she been thinking?

What was missing in her life that made her turn to a man like that?

I tossed back another finger of whiskey and shook my head.

What business was it of mine _what_ she'd been thinking?

She was a grown woman with a family of her own.

It wasn't my job to analyze her decisions.

It was my job to support them.

I sat back and sighed heavily.

This getting old business was a bitch. I'd watched out for them their entire lives, but now I had to step back and trust that I'd done right by them.

_Now_, I thought sarcastically. I should've stepped back years ago.

I had to respect their choices, or I was going to continue pushing them away until I lost them altogether.

I set down my glass and again thought about my newest son-in-law.

I had some serious crow to eat tomorrow and boy, did I ever hate that.

And then I remembered that Alex had said they were turning off their phones for the day.

Because they were tired and they were going to spend the day in bed.

Although that part I really didn't need to know. There were some things that a father just did _not_ need to hear, no matter how old his daughter was.

But so I'd wait.

I'd see if he called me Thursday morning, and if he didn't, then maybe I'd call him.

And I'd wait with Cathy, too.

I wanted to offer her my love and support, but I didn't want to intrude to do it. She and Steve were going to have their work cut out for them, and they didn't need me getting my nose in the middle.

Although maybe I'd call and offer to hang out with Nate.

He didn't need to get caught in the middle either, and they'd be able to talk more freely if they weren't worried about him listening.

So that was what I did.

After a restless night on my sofa, I called Steve's cell phone and offered to spend the day with Nate.

I was a little surprised to learn that he was going to school today, but it made sense to try to keep his life as routine as possible, so I said that I'd pick him up afterwards and bring him back later in the evening.

So I did. And Nate was happy to see me.

But what did he talk about all afternoon?

His aunt and uncle and their friends.

Apparently, Lupo had made quite the impression on him. Nate was calling him Spiderman because of how easily he'd climbed up and down the tree.

"He even held onto me with one hand while he climbed down," he told me. "And then he jumped, and we were still so high, but we didn't fall. He just landed on his feet and then started running. And he was _carrying_ me. He must be so strong."

And it wasn't just Lupo who had caught the boy's eye.

According to Nate, Connie was just as awesome. I didn't really know her, but I knew that she'd stood up for us during the inquiry of the shooting, which made her okay in my book.

But to Nate she was more than okay.

"She's so pretty and so nice and she smelled really, really good."

And then of course he had to talk about his uncle Bobby. I hadn't realized how much time Bobby spent with the boy.

And to hear Nate tell it, Bobby could fight crime with one hand tied behind his back. He even had a tale or two to back up his assertion.

Then there was Alex, who was the greatest of all. She could down bad guys twice her size without batting an eye.

_And_ she'd faced down the Italian mob.

"Where do you get this stuff?" I asked him on a chuckle. He'd retold stories about them nonstop for nearly an hour. "Did Bobby tell you these stories?"

"Well, I didn't need anyone to tell me about Lupo and Connie. I mean, I _saw_ them. I was _there_. Didn't you see them?

"Yeah, I did," I agreed.

"Uncle Bobby told me about some of the adventures that Aunt Alex has been on. He even told me that her friends call her Wonder Woman."

"That I believe," I said with a smile. "And he told you about the things he'd done, too?"

"No," he said dismissively. "Aunt Alex told me that stuff. They don't ever talk about themselves. Just each other."

He went back to playing with his cars, and for several long minutes, I just watched him.

He was a smart, well-adjusted little boy. Cathy and Steve were obviously doing a great job, despite recent events.

And clearly Alex and Bobby made a point of interacting with him on a fairly regular basis.

More so than they came to see me and Mary.

_Probably because Steve didn't insult and belittle Bobby_, I thought in irritation.

Again, I felt the pushing need to talk to the man, but I had to respect their privacy.

They'd made a point to mention the day of rest, and I wasn't going to be the one to ruin it.

Around seven o'clock, I took Nate back to the hotel where his parents were staying. Cathy invited me in, but I declined.

Instead, I gave her a hug and told her that I loved her and then headed back home, where I promptly retreated to the den.

"How did she look?" Mary asked me from her spot on the stairwell.

She didn't often come all the way into the room. It was my sanctuary and it wasn't that she wasn't welcome, but more that she chose to give me my space. If I was in here, it was usually because I was thinking.

"Not bad," I told her. "And Steve looked better. They said he had a mild concussion, but his color was good tonight."

She gave me a nod and left me alone with my thoughts.

So I spent a second night on the couch, half lit on whiskey, and full of remorse.

In the morning, I made my way up to the kitchen and poured the coffee which Mary always kept at the ready.

It was six.

I wondered what time Bobby and Alex woke up in the mornings.

Would they go to work today?

Surely they would.

They had their own business. They couldn't just afford to sit home on a Thursday.

Could they?

And would Bobby call me before work?

He'd promised that he would. Or at least, he promised he'd call this week.

And I didn't know, but he seemed like a man who kept his word.

Who was I kidding?

_Of course_ he kept his word.

That was why he'd earned the respect of men like Ross and Lupo.

So I sat at the kitchen table and drank my coffee and stared at the phone.

Mary came down at seven and fixed me breakfast, but I didn't have much of an appetite.

I _really_ needed to talk to the man.

And I needed to mend fences with Alex.

The more I thought about how wrong I'd been, the more it bothered me.

When I continued to drive Mary crazy with my pacing and muttered ponderings, she finally sighed heavily and said, "Just go over there. Get it off your chest."

"I don't want to interrupt them."

"It's after nine. If they're not out of bed by now, then they should be. Just go."

So I went.

It was a few minutes after ten when I knocked on their door, and apparently, I _did _pull them from the bed.

I waited in the hall until Alex finally opened the door.

"Hi, Dad," she said, amicably enough. Her hair was messy and she was dressed in sweatpants and an extremely large t-shirt.

_Bobby's_, I deduced. Can't get much past my cop brain.

The man in question was also in sweatpants and a t-shirt, although his shirt was wrong side out.

Which meant that he'd just put it on when I knocked on the door.

I banished the images that rushed my mind at that realization and entered the apartment.

"I figured that you guys would be up and ready to go to work," I said. "In fact, I almost went to the office first."

"We're going," Alex said defensively. "We just weren't in a hurry. We don't exactly work normal hours."

And this was not the way that I'd planned to start the conversation.

"No, of course not," I said quickly. Then I tried another tack. "How does your face feel? That was a nasty hit that you took the other day."

And it had been. Thirty-six hours after the fact and her cheek bone was deep purple with intermittent patches of blue.

"It looks worse than it feels," she replied with a shrug.

Bobby was still silent, although he had migrated across the room to stand behind his wife. I wasn't even sure if it was a conscious move or not, but every time that I was around them, that was what happened.

An awkward silence fell upon the room as they both waited for me to talk.

After all, I was the one who had intruded upon their happy home.

_The home that I'd found for them_, I reminded myself.

I took a minute to look at the place. I hadn't even bothered to notice when I'd been here the other night.

No, I'd been too busy hurling accusations.

"This place looks great," I told them approvingly.

"Thank you," Bobby said. "We like it."

The formalities were killing me. I had to bite the bullet.

"Okay, look. I'm sorry for barging in on you guys this morning. But if you can spare a few minutes," I said, looking at Bobby. "I'd really like to talk to you."

"Sure," he said evenly, and then he gestured toward the living room.

"I'll put on some coffee, and then I'm going to take a shower," Alex announced.

Then she reached up and kissed Bobby square on the mouth before heading for the kitchen.

He looked embarrassed by her display of affection, and again I felt bad.

Why should a man be embarrassed to be kissed by his wife?

I had really made a mess of things.

I went into the living room, but I didn't sit down. Instead, I jumped in with both feet.

"I owe you a tremendous apology," I said.

"Okay," he said carefully.

"Don't make this easy on me," I challenged. "I've been a complete ass. You've earned the right to do some yelling."

"You want me to yell at you?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to fire back at him that _yes_, yes I wanted him to yell at me.

But then I realized that yelling wasn't his way.

And in _his_ way, he _was_ making this hard on me.

He was going to make me spell it all out in rational terms.

"No," I said on a sigh. "Sit down, Son."

So the two of us sat down and I swallowed my pride.

"I've been treating you unfairly. And I haven't been giving Alex enough credit. I was blaming you for her choices, when I shouldn't have been blaming anyone at all. They're her choices to make, not mine. And maybe they were pretty good choices after all. You two do seem happy."

He nodded, but didn't say anything, so I kept going.

"And I kept trying to compare you to Joe because he's what I know. When Alex met him, she was still my little girl. I mean, yeah, she was in college, but still…she brought him to the house and introduced him to me and her mother. She kept me apprised of the progression of their relationship."

At his raised eyebrow, I added, "Well, mostly. But you see what I'm getting at, don't you?"

"You felt like you were involved," he said. "And you probably felt like you had some say in the matter."

"Exactly. And Joe came to me before he proposed to her."

And when I said the words, I realized that that was part of my issue.

I'd found out about Alex and Bobby's impending wedding on the day before.

No one had asked my permission.

And yeah, that was mostly just for show, but still…it would've been nice to have talked with Bobby beforehand.

"You're upset because I didn't do that," he stated with a nod. "I suppose that I should apologize for that."

"No," I said quickly. "No, I didn't come here for that. I came here with the hope that you and I can start fresh. Let's let the past be just that, okay? I'd like to get to know you better. I only know you by reputation and from what I've heard from Alex. And Nate, who adores you by the way. But I'd like to get to know _you_."

"I think that's a great idea. In fact, that's pretty much what I said to Alex the other night."

_The other night_.

I instantly knew to which night he was referring.

"And about that…" I began.

"No," he interrupted. "Like you said. The past is the past."

"So…" I said as I got up and held out my hand. He shook it firmly, and then put his hand on my shoulder.

"So…I'm having a poker game here tomorrow night. Are you interested?"

"In having you cheat me out of my money again?" I asked him, but then I broke into a grin. "I wouldn't miss it."

TBC...


	69. Chapter 69

**Alex POV**

* * *

Yeah, I'll admit it.

I listened to my dad talk to Bobby.

At first, anyway.

Once they started talking about poker, I turned on the water and got into the shower.

And I couldn't stop the smile.

My dad had done a good thing.

And so had Bobby.

Because nothing would make me happier than for the two of them to get along.

And I realized that my dad had been right about one aspect.

I'd blindsided him with our marriage.

And true, the wedding had really snuck up on the two of us as well, but still…after privately saying our vows in Boston I could've mentioned something.

Something to prepare him for the fact that whether we ever made it legal or not, we were in it for the long haul.

So in that respect, I could understand why maybe he'd had trouble accepting things. I was just glad that it seemed as though that time had passed.

I let my mind wander toward Moran while I washed my hair.

I didn't understand Bobby's need to talk to the man, but I had to respect it.

As far as I was concerned, he didn't deserve anyone's compassion. And especially not Bobby's.

But the least I could do was to go with him and provide some moral support.

"Aren't you clean by now?"

I nearly jumped a mile at the sound of Bobby's voice just outside of the shower.

"Where's my dad?" I asked quickly in a hushed tone.

"He left. He said to tell you that he'd like to have lunch with you sometime and for you to call when you're available."

"He left?" I repeated in surprise as I stuck my head around the curtain.

"I think he felt bad that he got us out of the bed," he said with a shrug. "He said that he'd taken up enough of our time."

"Oh. Okay."

"So…aren't you clean by now?" he asked again.

His tone of voice left no question as to what he had on his mind.

And we _had_ been interrupted earlier.

I pulled the curtain back all the way and made room for him to join me.

"Why don't you get in here and find out?"

We left the apartment an hour later and headed for Rikers. Bobby called Ross along the way.

"Can you get me and Alex into Rikers?" he asked him. I heard him chuckle, and I had a feeling that Ross had called him out on the fact that we were already en route.

"Yes sir," he continued after listening quietly for several minutes. "Thank you."

He hung up the phone and looked at me and said, "We're in."

"I had no doubt. Did he say anything about his meeting with the commissioner? Mike said that he blew him off on Tuesday to come out to the scene, but I haven't heard what happened after that."

"No," he replied. "I wonder if they've made their selection yet."

"Maybe," I said thoughtfully. "You think Ross has a shot at it?"

"After everything that's happened? He's lucky the commissioner likes him or he might not even still have a job."

He had a point, even though the recent events had not been due to any fault of Ross.

But in politics, it rarely mattered who was to blame. Only who _appeared_ to be in the wrong.

"So…things are okay with you and my dad?" I asked Bobby.

We hadn't really talked about their conversation yet, since the shower had somewhat distracted us. Of course, I knew what had been said, but I wanted to let him tell me.

"I think that things are going to be good," he said, settling his hand on my thigh. "He was apologetic for the way that he's treated me. And I can understand that he held some resentment toward me for not seeking his approval before we got married. But I think he's ready to move past that. He's coming to the poker game tomorrow and he seemed happy about it."

"Of course, you know all of that," he added with a smile.

"What do you mean, I know all of that?"

"You didn't even get in the shower until we got past the good stuff," he said. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. The non-bruised cheek. "You were standing guard, waiting to come to my rescue, weren't you?"

"Maybe," I admitted with a smile.

"So," he said, sitting back against his seat but keeping his hand firmly on my leg. "Are the girls going to get smashed again while the men play poker?"

"_Girls_? What are we, twelve?"

"Excuse me. Women. Incredibly sexy and mature _women_," he teased. "And I find it telling that _that's_ the part you take objection to as opposed to the idea that you're going to get smashed."

"Well, I don't know about getting smashed," I replied. He was in such a great mood today, and I loved it. I only hoped that the visit with Moran didn't ruin it. "I'm not sure if I can waste another day on a hangover."

"Another day in bed? I say go for it."

We bantered back and forth, avoiding all serious discussion, until we got to the prison.

"We'll keep it short," he told me. "I just want to tell him about Harker."

"Okay," I said agreeably.

This was his show. I was only going along for the ride.

We went through security, leaving behind our weapons and phones, and then got buzzed into a visitation room.

"Detective Goren," Moran greeted. And then his eyes fell onto me. "And Detective Eames."

"It's Goren," I corrected. "You know that."

He nodded slowly and sat back in his chair.

He seemed smug to me, and I wanted to knock that look off of his face. I couldn't help the violent urges that flowed through me.

I simply loathed the man.

"So where's my son?" Moran asked Bobby, effectively dismissing me. "You said that you'd bring him to talk to me, right?"

"Not exactly. You offered to try to convince him to confess," Bobby corrected. "But as it turns out, we don't need you."

"Because he didn't do it, right? I told you. I don't know why everyone thinks you're so goddamn smart when you're nothing but a…"

"He confessed," I interrupted. "He _did_ do it. And he admitted to everything."

"What?"

"That's right," Bobby said with a nod. "You remember Detective Logan, right?"

Moran reacted to the name with visible revulsion.

"He's an imbecile. I don't know how he ever got a badge. What does he have to do with any of this?"

"He got your boy to confess," Bobby said proudly.

"That's impossible."

"No, see, it's not," I said, and suddenly I felt like smiling.

Maybe this was why Bobby had wanted to come here.

Not because he felt like he owed Moran anything, but because it felt good to see him get his.

"Detective Logan is very good at his job. And he is so much smarter than your son that it only took him about an hour to get him to confess to everything. In writing."

"So…so…I don't get to talk to him?"

"Well, not right now, no. But I would imagine that it won't be long before you'll be seeing him on a regular basis. I wonder if they'll let a father and son be cellies," I mused, looking at Bobby.

He was barely holding back a grin.

"You'll be happy to know that your son wanted to protect you from losing your parole eligibility," Bobby told him. "But I think that you might lose that anyway."

"What? Why?"

"Some evidence was revealed during the interrogation that piqued Captain Ross' interest."

"Evidence? What kind of evidence? And what the hell does Ross have to do with this?"

"Major Case has jurisdiction," I reminded him sharply. "And as much as it galls you to think about it, he's in charge."

"And when he heard about this new suggestion of wrongdoing," Bobby added. "It was up to him to decide whether or not to pursue it. So it's kind of like your fate rests in his hands. Again."

"You're full of shit. There's nothing Matt knows about anything I've done that could possibly get me into trouble."

"It wasn't Matt."

"What do you mean it wasn't Matt?"

"Matt didn't say anything bad about you. Logan made mention of something you'd done. Ross is turning it into an inquiry. There will likely be time added to your sentence."

"Something I did to _him_?" Moran shouting, hopping up from his chair. He slammed his cuffed hands down on the table. "He's a street thug who can't spell cop, and Ross is going to believe _him_?"

Bobby reached out and calmly touched my arm. He knew that I'd been about to rip into Moran for his insulting characterization of Mike, but apparently he had things he wanted to say instead.

"You know, it used to really bug me that I couldn't win you over," Bobby said quietly. "I mean, I never wanted to play the political game, but even so, I couldn't understand why you hated me so much. But now I think I know. I think I remind you of all of your shortcomings."

"My…my..._shortcomings_?" he yelled.

"That's right. And Logan is a lot like me. He doesn't play the game either, but he always got the job done and yet you hated him anyway, so you can see the pattern there. You hate guys like us. You hate that we're smart. You hate that we're honorable. And you hate that we're loyal. And why is that? It's because you're none of those things. And I can't wait for Ross to bring up additional charges that keep you behind bars for a very, very long time."

I was glad that I'd kept my mouth shut, because Bobby had gotten the point across so much better than I could have. He'd given him a one-two punch that had left him reeling.

"You're bluffing," he said at last. "There aren't any charges pending."

Bobby got up from his chair and leaned over the table, looming over the much-shorter Moran.

"You bribed and sexually harassed Carolyn Barek two and a half years ago. You offered her sex in exchange for allowing Logan to keep his job. There are six months left before the statute of limitations runs out on that, and you can bet your ass that Ross will file before then. I wonder what the parole board will think of that."

I was in nearly as much shock as Moran. I hadn't heard that story. I watched Moran's face as Bobby's words filtered into his brain and he went from arrogant to beaten in about two seconds.

Bobby touched me on the arm again and tipped his head toward the door.

"Will you come back?" Moran asked. "Will you tell me what happens with my son?"

"I'm not coming back," Bobby told him. "I don't owe you anything. You reap what you sow, Chief."

We left the room and neither of us said a word until we'd cleared security again and were back outside.

"I don't know about you, but I think that felt pretty good," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, it did," I agreed. "How'd you know about that harassment thing?"

"Ross told me earlier when I called him about getting clearance. He's already talked to Carolyn about filing official charges, and so the wheels of justice are in motion. He told me about it because he wanted me to be sure to let Moran know what was coming. Now he can stew about it for awhile. Seven years wasn't nearly enough for him anyway. Not for all that he did."

"So what's next?" I asked him as we got into the car.

I reached to buckle my seatbelt, but he stopped me, and instead gave me a kiss that I felt in my toes.

"Thank you for coming with me," he said when he pulled back.

He ran his hand lightly over my bruised cheek, and then kissed me again, this time more tenderly.

After a long moment, he reluctantly released my lips and sat back in his seat before flashing me a smile.

I realized that this had been a good day for him so far.

He'd mended things with my father, and he'd gotten the best of Kenny Moran.

And it was barely lunch time.

TBC...


	70. Chapter 70

**Liz POV**

* * *

It was a little after five on Friday evening when Danny and I came up top from the 50th Street station.

"I'll walk you on down," he offered when I paused to tell him goodbye.

"You don't have to do that," I countered. "It's daylight. It's five blocks. I'll be fine."

"I know. But we're early," he insisted. He took my hand and together we headed for the Logans' house.

They'd swapped locations for this week's event, with the women meeting at Carolyn's and the men at Bobby's.

I was looking forward to some down time with my friends, but I was also slightly apprehensive.

It had been four days since the attack on me, and I was nowhere near healed.

I'd gone to visit a shrink twice, and I'd done a lot of talking with Danny, but still…I wasn't sure what to expect tonight.

On one hand, having a few drinks and releasing some stress might be helpful, but on the other hand, what if the alcohol caused me to get emotional?

What if I had a breakdown in front of everyone?

And then I decided, so what?

If I couldn't have an emotional episode in front of my friends, then when was I supposed to do it?

Surely Carolyn and Alex both would understand.

And I knew that Connie was going to be there tonight, too, but she was one of us now.

I may as well break her in good as to how we handled these girls' nights.

Liquor and confessions. Copious amounts of each.

I smiled at the memory of our last girls' night and then switched my focus onto my husband.

"Are you going to tell them tonight?" I asked Danny when we approached the house.

"I don't know. I was kind of hoping to do it when they're together," he replied.

I nodded my agreement and reached up to knock on the door, but at that moment, it was pulled open from the inside.

"Good timing, Doc," Mike said with a smile. "Me and Bobby were just getting ready to head down to his place."

But instead of leaving, he stood back so that we could both enter the house. It couldn't have worked out any better.

"Huh," I said, looking over at Danny. "So everyone is here. How convenient."

"Convenient?" Bobby asked. "What's going on?"

"Danny has something that he wants to say," I told them, and I couldn't stop the smile.

What can I say?

I was proud of him, and maybe he didn't like to blow his own horn, but I had no problem doing it for him.

"Thank you, Liz," he replied dryly, but he squeezed my hand and looked around at the others. "Um…I just wanted you guys to be the first to know that…well…I've been asked to take on the position of Chief of Detectives."

The chorus of congratulatory remarks was expected, but still very sincere and I took the moment to revel in my husband's success.

He'd worked hard for the opportunity and while he hadn't accepted the position just yet, it was an honor to be asked all the same.

"What did you tell him?" Carolyn asked, not missing Danny's choice of wording.

"I'm going to give him my answer on Monday."

"And your answer is…" Bobby encouraged.

"I haven't decided yet," he said. "But you know…if I do, I'll have carte blanche when it comes to hiring new detectives. Or old ones, as the case may be."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"It would be a lot different. Just think about it."

"You want us to come back to the department," Bobby stated.

"In Major Case. As partners," Danny said quickly. "I'll abolish the ban on relationships between partners. Alex, you can bridge your time and work out your three years to retirement."

"Um…wow," Alex said, glancing at Bobby. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything right now. Just think about it. All of you. And no hard feelings either way."

"All of us?" Mike asked him. "You want us, too?"

"Of course. Same deal goes for you and Carolyn."

I was glad that none of them discarded the notion immediately.

And like Danny said, there would be no hard feelings either way, but I was glad to see that they were at least going to weigh the pros and cons.

Because he'd been excited by the prospect.

"_Can you just imagine?"_ he'd said earlier. _"Major Case, with three sets of the best detectives in the department? We'll solve crimes before they're even committed_."

I'd laughed at his enthusiasm and didn't point out how far he'd come.

He knew it.

Talk of work was tabled for the time being on the promise that the five of them would get together in Danny's office on Monday morning to talk business.

A few minutes later, the men left to go to their poker game, so it was just the three of us.

"Connie's on her way?" I asked Alex as the two of us went into the living room. Carolyn had gone into the kitchen and said she'd join us there in a minute.

"Yeah, she'll be here," Alex replied.

"Do you mind?" I asked her, reaching out to touch her bruised face. The one on her jaw was starting to fade, but the one on her cheek was still quite vivid. "I just want to…"

And then I pushed on the injured area in that annoying way of doctors, but she didn't make a sound.

"It's getting there," I told her. "It doesn't hurt too much?"

"No, it hurts just as it should," she replied with a wry grin. "What about you? How's the hand?"

"I'll pull the stitches in a couple of days."

"It hasn't kept you from working," she pointed out.

"No. I can still hold a scalpel with the best of them."

We both sat down on the couch and then laughed when we sighed simultaneously.

"It's been a hell of a week, huh?" I asked her with a grin. "I hope Carolyn bought more tequila."

"Carolyn did," Carolyn answered as she came into the room.

She carried a tray with two bottles, four shot glasses, a bowl of cut up limes, and a shaker of salt.

"Only two bottles?" Alex teased as she sat up on the edge of the couch to pour the shots.

"I've got more in the kitchen," Carolyn replied. "Should we wait for Connie?"

"Hell no," Alex said. "We'll make her catch up, like you guys did to me last time."

We were three rounds in when the doorbell rang.

"I hope she knows how to hold her liquor," I remarked as I went to the door.

"Hi," she said when I opened it. She held up a bottle of Jose Cuervo. "Um…Lupo said that you guys like tequila, so…"

"It's perfect. Come on in."

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

Call me anal.

I prefer observant.

But whatever.

The truth is, I can't help but focus on something out of the ordinary.

So the first thing I noticed when Connie walked into the room was the ring on her finger.

And then I noticed that she noticed me noticing it.

I raised my eyebrow at her, questioning whether or not it was something she wanted to talk about.

She just smiled.

"I need to get used to hanging out with detectives," she replied as Alex put a shot glass in her hand. "But go ahead and say it."

"Say what?" Liz asked, and then she said, "Oh, and you're three behind so get busy."

I didn't even have a chance to open my mouth before Alex reached out and touched the ring.

"You and Lupo got engaged," she stated with a smile.

"We did," she answered, nodding and then tossing back the second shot.

"I had no idea that you two were so serious," Liz said, but she was smiling too. I mean, there was no way we couldn't be happy for them. They were really good together.

"We live together," Connie reminded her.

"Still…sometimes people live together for years, and I don't know, but Detective Lupo seems like the kind of guy who would be happy with the status quo."

"Oh wait," Alex said. "Did you ask him?"

"No," she replied. "He asked me. And honestly, I wasn't expecting it at all. When he said that he wanted to talk with me about something, well…I thought that maybe he wanted to call it quits."

"Why would you think that?" I asked her. I'd seen the way they were together. It wasn't hard to picture them as married.

"He just has this low self-image," she explained. "And he kept going through these phases were he'd manage to talk himself into the idea that he's not good enough for me."

Alex and I burst out laughing and at her confused look, I had to explain.

"We know exactly what you mean by that," I told her. "I thought Mike and Bobby were two peas in a pod, but apparently there's a third pea that goes in there with them."

"So you two have had to deal with the same thing?"

"Bobby's much better about it now," Alex said. "Although sometimes I still have to remind him. You know, boost his ego a little bit."

"How do you do that?" Connie asked her. "I mean, Lupo doesn't always believe me when I tell him. He thinks I'm just saying it because I'm supposed to."

"Well, see…" Alex began with a mischievous grin.

"No, no," I interrupted with a wink. I knew by the look on Alex's face where she planned to take the conversation. "No sex talk until we've killed at least one bottle."

"Then drink up," Liz said. "Because I already know about your two studs, but Lupo is fresh meat. I think I need to hear from Connie."

I watched Liz as she poured another round for all of us and I wondered how she was truly holding up.

She seemed to be herself.

But was she keeping it all inside?

"So, what's going on with Harker?" Alex asked Connie. Her mind had obviously been going down the same path as mine. "Is his confession going to hold?"

"Absolutely. He's going to plead guilty to murder, amongst other things. He admitted that Hemmings caught Brubaker spying on them. He confronted him about it and Brubaker told him everything he knew and threatened to go to the police. So Harker had Pebo kill him."

"He'll get hard time, I hope," Liz said. "No deals, right?"

"No deals. He'll be going away for a very long time."

"And Hemmings was only involved for the career boost?" Liz asked. "That's what Danny said. That she wanted to write about this whole thing."

"Well, that and she was a prison groupie. She'd been hooking up with Pebo while he was still at Rikers, and then when Harker approached him with his idea, she apparently volunteered to get involved," Connie said. "She said that she thought it'd be her crowning achievement."

"Does Rikers put out a newspaper?" I mused. "Maybe she can write for them."

"What about Moran?" Alex asked. And then she turned to me, "And how come you never told me about what he did to you?"

"I never even considered pressing charges," I told her. "I mean, who was going to believe me over the chief of D's? But since he's in prison, and…well, Ross convinced me to follow through with it. It will keep him behind bars a lot longer."

"So he really told you that Mike could keep his job if you slept with him?" Liz asked me.

"Yes he did," I said with a nod.

"Yeah, well he lost his opportunity for early parole. He'll do at least the full twelve, if not more," Connie said.

"So all's well that ends well, right?" Liz remarked.

"How are you doing with all of this?" I asked her. "Have you talked to anyone?"

I didn't feel bad asking her in front of the others. We were all friends here. We had no secrets. Or at least, if we did, we had no problem just stating it. Topics that were off-limits were called just that.

"Yes," she said, and that surprised me. I hadn't expected that she would go to anyone. "And I think it's helped. You know, I think that I was placing some of the blame where it didn't belong, and she…she's helped me to put the blame where it should be."

"You were upset with Danny," Alex said knowingly. "And Bobby. It was because of them that you were targeted."

"I didn't realize that I was, but yeah…at first I was. But I know it's not their fault. I mean, rationally, I knew it anyway. I just had to grasp that emotionally as well."

"She," I said suddenly. "You're seeing a lady shrink?"

"Yeah, she used to work for the department."

"Oh my God," I muttered. "Dr. Olivet?"

"That's right," she answered, and I groaned loudly before taking another shot. "Danny said that she's very good. Why?"

"Mike slept with her," Alex said.

See what I mean? No secrets.

"When?" Connie asked sharply.

"Not recently," I clarified. "Not since we've been together. It was…he had to…he needed a clean psych report."

"He slept with his shrink to get cleared for duty?" Liz asked. And then she started laughing. "Why am I not surprised?"

"So what do you think of her?" I asked Liz. And yeah, I'd been laughing about it, too, but still…the woman in me was curious to hear her opinion.

"She's smart," Liz said with a shrug. "But not nearly as smart as you."

"I'm not talking about intelligence," I retorted as I poured another shot. "Work with me here, Liz."

"Oh, well, she's really showing her age," she said quickly. "You know, gravity has not been kind to her. And she's got these bags under her eyes, and…"

"Okay," I said, laughing and waving her off. "That's good."

"You're worried that she looks better than you?" Connie asked me. "I've seen her. You don't have anything to worry about."

"You are officially my new best friend," I told her, handing her a full glass.

"Hey!" Liz and Alex called out simultaneously in protest.

"I'm buttering her up," I mock-whispered. "Do you guys want scoop on Lupo in the sack or not?"

The room erupted into laughter.

So much so that I barely heard the knock on the door.

I stood up quickly and then had to steady myself for a minute. We'd only been drinking for less than an hour, but we'd done considerable damage and we had yet to eat.

"Pizza," I said, pointing a finger at Alex. "Or Chinese. Something. Call it in."

"Get your new best friend to do it," she said with a smirk. But then she turned to Connie and tapped on the ring. "Or is that ring too heavy for you to make a phone call? Let me see that thing anyway."

I headed for the front door while Liz and Alex made over Connie's ring.

It was a sign of my level of intoxication that I realized I hadn't checked the peephole only after I undid all of the locks.

_That's all right_, I told myself as I turned the knob. I could still kick someone's ass if the need arose.

Turned out, there was no need.

Because it was Mary Shannon.

"Inspector," I greeted warmly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"You are shit-faced already, aren't you?" she asked with a grin. "John said that I'd have to hurry to catch up to you guys but I thought he was kidding."

"Nope, he wasn't," I said as I gave her a hug. "Come on in. I didn't know you were going to be in town this weekend."

"I didn't either, until this morning. You don't mind if I join the party, do you?"

"Absolutely not."

And I didn't.

I really liked Mary, or at least what I knew of her so far.

And what better way to indoctrinate her into the group than to have her join our tequila night?

She and Connie could be pledges together.

"So John is over at Bobby's?" I asked her as I locked up the door behind her.

"Uh huh. Losing his shirt, I'm sure."

I briefly went into the kitchen and grabbed two more bottles of Patron and another shot glass and then guided Mary into the living room.

"Alex, look who's here," I called.

She smiled broadly and then introduced Mary to the others.

"I've heard a lot about you," Liz told her.

"Same here," Mary said.

"You need to do seven shots to get up to speed," Connie told her.

"Seven?"

"Hey, if I caught up, you can catch up. Because then you have to tell us about your sex life," she said. Then she looked at me, "Right? Isn't that how this works? You're trying to get me drunk enough to spill secrets?"

"Yeah, but I don't know," I said skeptically. "I mean, John is Mike's brother, so that kind of makes him like family to me, and that might be kind of creepy."

"Yeah, but you said Bobby was like a brother, too, and you don't mind hearing Alex's stories," Liz spoke up.

We debated my point until Mary cleared her throat loudly.

"Um, I really hate to disappoint you guys, but…if you want to hear how John is in bed, you'll have to ask someone else."

"You haven't slept with him?" Alex asked her in disbelief. "I would've sworn that you did while you were in Denver."

"No," she told us. And I'd known that, but I'd thought that surely in the time since then. "Hey, don't look at me like that. We're taking it slow. It's only been a few weeks."

"I think it's sweet," Connie spoke up.

"Thank you," Mary said. She tossed back her shot and waited for Alex to refill the glass.

"How long did you wait?" Liz asked Connie. "You've been dating Lupo for what…six months now?"

"And recently engaged," I added for Mary's benefit.

"Nice," she told her as she glanced over the ring.

"Thank you. Um…how long did we wait?"

"That's the question on the table, yes." Alex replied.

"Well, we…I mean, see it's…we've known each other for awhile," Connie hedged.

"Answer the question, Counselor," I teased.

"Okay, it was on the first date. And actually, it was before the first date. But that's not the way I usually…I mean, he was different, and it seemed…"

"Connie. Relax," I told her. "You're amongst friends. There's no judgment here."

"It's just…I'm sorry. I don't have sisters or close friends or anything, and I'm not really used to talking about this stuff. Oh, and speaking of sisters, how is Cathy?"

"She's doing pretty good," Alex said. "Steve and Nate went back to the house last night, and Cathy's going to stay in the hotel for a while. But they're working on it. They're kind of starting from scratch. You know, going on dates and actually talking."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Maybe she can come to the next one of these. I'd like to get to know her better."

"Me, too," Alex agreed.

"So," I began as I poured us all another round. "What are we drinking to tonight? The new job offer?"

"How did you know?" Mary asked me quickly.

"How did she know what?" Alex questioned.

"About the job."

"Which job are you talking about?" I asked her carefully.

Mary looked at me in confusion, and I had to attribute it to the seven shots that she'd downed in the past twenty minutes.

"The one here," she said. "For me. I applied for a position in New York."

TBC...


	71. Chapter 71

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I hadn't been able to get the grin off of my face for three days now.

Since Tuesday when Connie had said yes.

For the first few hours, I kept thinking that she was going to change her mind.

_Oh, you asked me to _marry_ you…sorry, but…no._

But she never said that.

In fact, she smiled quite a bit, too.

Even as we went through the IAB inquiry and the DA's investigation.

_And_ while I got checked out by the paramedics and then referred on to the ER.

The smile went away briefly when I told her that I wasn't going to go to the ER, but I managed to coax it back soon enough.

"What the hell are you so happy about?" Mike asked me good-naturedly when I walked into Bobby's apartment.

Or rather, I _hobbled_ into Bobby's apartment.

My knee was still sore, but it was getting better.

I'd never gotten it checked out, but Connie had finally believed me when I told her that it wasn't anything serious.

And maybe it was because when we got home, I'd offered her proof.

I'd picked her up and made love to her against the wall in the hallway of our apartment.

And yeah, it had actually hurt like hell to do that, but only afterwards.

At the time, I hadn't felt a thing.

Later that evening, she'd made me keep ice on it while I kept my foot propped on a pillow. Then she'd held my head in her lap and ran her fingers through my hair as we talked about possible wedding dates.

So no, I wasn't going to complain about the knee injury.

"What?" I asked Mike innocently while my smile got even bigger. "Nothing."

"Yeah," he said disbelievingly. "That's fine. Bernard will tell us."

"No he won't," Bernard said as he came into the house behind me. "Bernard knows when to keep his mouth shut."

"Really?" Ross asked him. "Is that a newly acquired skill? Because I haven't seen any displays of that ability."

"Come on now, Cap. I'm trying to take up for my partner here. I mean, he can keep a secret if he wants to, right?"

And that was Bernard's way of throwing me to the wolves. He'd offered up the confirmation that I _had_ a secret.

Although, he knew that I planned to tell everyone tonight, so I wasn't the least bit upset about it.

"Spill it," Mike said as he handed me a cigar. "Give us a reason to light these babies up."

He almost looked like maybe _he_ knew my secret, too, but that was impossible.

Wasn't it?

"We need a reason?" I asked him as I unwrapped the Cohiba.

"Humor me."

"Okay. How's this? Connie and I are getting married."

So we smoked our first cigars in honor of me and Connie.

And I was amazed by the fact that no one asked me how I'd managed to talk her into it.

I guess I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I wondered idly if that feeling would ever go away.

Would I be fifty and wondering when she was going to wake up and realize that she'd made a mistake?

I wandered into the kitchen to take a break from the boisterousness of the crowd.

"Congratulations," Bobby said as he came into the room behind me. "You still look a little shell-shocked."

"It's a big change," I admitted. I had a feeling that he might understand where I was coming from. "I've been a loner for a long time."

"True," he agreed. "Was it your idea or hers?"

"Mine," I admitted. "And honestly, I'm surprised that she's going along with it."

"You think she's going to change her mind," he stated knowingly. I just shrugged and took another toke on the cigar.

"Take it from the voice of experience," he said. "She's smart, right?"

"Of course."

"And you trust her."

"Absolutely."

"Then trust her to know her own mind."

"That sounds awfully simple," I replied. "Astute, but simple."

"It's not. Believe me. But…"

"You guys ready to get started?" Mike interrupted as he stuck his head in the kitchen.

"Yeah," I said as I gave Bobby a nod. I understood the point that he was trying to make. "Yeah, we're ready. Deal 'em."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I followed Lupo into the living room where I'd cleared out space for a large table.

Our poker nights were getting so big that maybe we'd have to have the next one at Kevin's firehouse.

I accepted the cards that Sean dealt me, but I was having trouble concentrating because I kept thinking about Ross and his offer.

He wanted us back at MCS.

He was going to be the new Chief of D's.

How much different would things be with a man like him in that office?

Did I even care?

I was so firmly on the fence that it was making my ass hurt.

"Ten or fold, Goren," Kevin said to me.

I hadn't even been watching the betting.

I was lost.

Kevin flashed me a smile and took a sip of his scotch.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Did you lose count?"

"You wish," I retorted. "I'll see your ten and raise you ten more."

Never let it be said that I wasn't a ballsy gambler.

Although I didn't like to think of myself as a gambler at all.

In fact, earlier in the afternoon I'd confided in Alex that I planned to lose tonight.

"_Why?"_ she'd asked me.

"_Because I think I've been having too much fun winning."_

"_Too much fun?"_

"_I want to make sure that I still have fun even when I lose,"_ I'd explained.

And she understood that.

"_Okay,"_ she'd agreed. _"But if my dad reverts to his old ways…if he acts like an ass…"_

"_Oh yeah. Then I'll win,"_ I'd said with a grin.

But so far, Johnny had just been one of the group.

There'd been good-natured ribbing by everyone to everyone, but that was to be expected.

So far, he hadn't crossed the line.

"Bobby's feeling it tonight," Bernard remarked as he added a twenty to the pot in the middle of the table. "I think I need to find some new friends to play poker with. I'm still reeling from the last game."

"Well, it's not like you have a woman to spend your money on," Lupo joked.

"Oh, ouch!" Mike said. "Low blow from the newly shackled man."

"Shackled?" Kevin said. "Does Carolyn know that's how you refer to marriage?"

"I'm betting not, or else he'd be sporting a black eye right about now," Sean added.

"At the very least," Mike agreed. "And if marriage is like shackles, then throw away the key. I'm a happy man."

"As long as it's not the key to the handcuffs, right Mike?" Bernard teased.

"Exactly," Mike replied with a grin.

"So, where's Lewis tonight?" Sean asked me.

"He had a date," I told him.

"He blew off poker night for a date?" Johnny questioned. "Who is this woman?"

"The same one," Mike said with a knowing nod. "It's only a matter of time before he joins the shackled ranks. He's meeting her parents tonight."

"Now see that right there is why I plan to stay single," Bernard remarked. "I do _not_ want to have to deal with in-laws. My own parents are bad enough."

"Oh, I don't know. In-laws aren't so bad, are they Bobby?" Johnny asked me.

But he was smiling when he said it and he gave me a look, raising his glass to me.

I returned the motion and gave him a nod.

"In-laws are the absolute worst," I joked, catching him off guard. There was a moment of hesitation from everyone else until Johnny started laughing and then they all joined in.

Above the noise, I managed to hear a loud knock on the door, so I got up to see who was there while Sean started telling war stories about _his_ in-laws.

I opened the door to John Strathmore.

"I came to crash your game," he said as he shook my hand.

"I didn't know you were in town. I figured you'd be somewhere in New Mexico," I remarked as I gestured him inside. "That seems to be your state of choice these days."

"I brought New Mexico to me this time," he replied.

"Mary's in New York?" I asked in surprise. She hadn't been here yet since her work kept her on a short leash. But at his answering nod, I added, "God help us all."

"Exactly. She went down to get drunk with the ladies."

"Maybe we need to crash _their_ party," I suggested.

"I thought about that. I figured at the very least, it would be cheaper," he replied. We stepped into the living room and he was greeted enthusiastically. Within seconds, he had a cigar in one hand and a drink in the other. "But I'm betting they're not smoking cigars over there."

"Hey, who knows what they do?" Mike said as he gave John firm hug. "Good to see you. When did you get back?"

"Just a couple of hours ago. Thanks for the heads-up on the game."

"So, Strathmore," Sean said as he shuffled the cards for the next hand.

I didn't even know who'd won the last hand. I really needed to start paying better attention.

Or maybe I didn't.

Because I was having fun, and that was the point, right?

"How's Mary?"

"She's good."

"Is she now?" Kevin joked. "Because we figure that surely by now you've got some…more explicit details for us."

"Don't you have your own sex life? Or did your wife cut you off?"

"So that means no, huh? You still haven't gotten any? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of playboy or something," Sean said. "I was going to live vicariously through you."

"I guess you're going to have to use Bernard now," Lupo said. "He's the last free man standing."

"And I plan to stay that way for a long time," Bernard commented as he picked up his cards. Then he shook his head and added, "I mean really…who wants to have sex with same woman every damn night?"

"Night…morning…afternoon," Mike said with a grin. "Any time works for me."

"Me, too," I agreed before I considered my present company.

My comment was met with a bevy of protests from the Eames men, which caused everyone else to start laughing.

"Goren, how many times do we have to tell you?" Sean moaned good-naturedly. "You are absolutely not allowed to talk about your sex life."

"Sorry," I said with a wave of my hand as I fought off my own embarrassment. "Momentary lapse. It won't happen again."

"Yeah, it'd better not," Kevin kidded.

"Oh, hey," I said, suddenly reminded of something I'd wanted to ask Sean. "How'd it go with Ted?"

He broke into a wide grin and said, "He's going down. We found thirteen stolen cars on his lot. And we managed to catch two of the crews that were doing the lifting."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Ross spoke up. "I also heard that there might be a promotion in the works."

"You're going to get your shield?" Johnny asked quickly.

"I don't know yet," Sean replied. "I haven't heard anything official, but I know my name's in the running for a spot at the 2-7 in Homicide."

"Our old stomping grounds," Bernard remarked. "Very nice."

"Is that what you want?" Ross asked Sean.

"It would be a great boost," Sean said with a nod. "I mean, obviously eventually I'd like to get into Major Case, but Homicide…not a lot of guys manage to get that as their first assignment."

The conversation continued, with Lupo and Bernard telling Sean about how great Van Buren was to work for, but I noticed the look on Ross' face.

Sean would get that spot. And he'd earned it, so it wasn't like he'd be bumping someone else to get Sean the job.

It was more like making sure that the right man wasn't overlooked for political reasons.

And the idea that Ross was committed to doing the right thing got me thinking about that job offer again.

Because I'd loved being a Major Case detective.

I'd gotten sour on it at the end due to circumstances, but those circumstances had changed.

Everything had changed.

It was definitely something that me and Alex would have to talk about. With Mike and Carolyn, too, because whatever choice was made would obviously effect the business.

"It's on you, Bobby," Mike said, reminding me that we were actually playing a game of poker. I looked down at the cash next to me and the pile was astoundingly small.

"Um…I fold."

"You didn't even look at your cards," Bernard commented.

"He doesn't have to look," Lupo teased. "It's a Zen thing."

"That's right. He cleaned up last time by betting on a hand he hadn't looked at, didn't he Dad?" Sean added.

I glanced over at Johnny, but he was still maintaining a friendly countenance, even after being reminded of how I'd taken his last dollar.

"Yes he did. And if he folds, then he can't win, so I'm in," he said, tossing a ten onto the pile.

"Your mind's not on the game tonight," Ross remarked with a knowing grin.

"No, it's not," I admitted.

"I hear that," Mike said as he gave me a look.

_So he was considering it, too. _

"Why, what's going on?" Lupo asked.

Mike and Ross both looked at me, but I just shrugged. I wasn't going to walk on eggshells around Johnny. He was either serious in his assertion that he wanted us to get along or he wasn't.

And I may as well find out sooner rather than later.

So really, it was a matter of whether Ross wanted to share the news about _his_ offer.

"It's on you, Captain," I said.

"Spill it, Cap," Bernard said encouragingly.

So Ross told everyone the news about his offer.

"So now I've got to call you Chief?" Bernard asked. "That just doesn't have the same ring to it."

"Well, you could always call him C-Dog," Mike joked.

"Or not," Ross said firmly. "Besides, I'm not sure if I'm going to take it. I'll let the commissioner know on Monday."

"So why does his news have you and Logan distracted?" Johnny asked curiously.

"Because Ross offered for all of us to come back to Major Case," I said.

I waited anxiously for his response, and I was annoyed with myself for caring so much about what he thought and yet at the same time I was hopeful.

It would be so nice to have him be supportive of our decisions rather than judgmental.

It would almost be like having a father.

"Well, why the hell would you want to do that?" he asked after a moment. "Right now, you're your own boss. And besides, you'd get split up."

"No," Ross answered. "They could still be partners. And they'd work for me. MCS is going to fall directly under the purview of the chief."

"Yeah, he made a sweet offer," Mike added.

"Sounds like you and Alex have some thinking to do then, don't you?" Johnny remarked. Then he got up from the table and picked up the bottle of scotch. "Okay, who needs a refill?"

I watched him for a minute, in silent shock over his nonchalance about the job offer.

Two weeks ago he would've told me that I was an idiot for not having jumped at the chance. Hell, two _days_ ago even.

But now, it seemed as though he was okay with whichever choice we made.

I mean, I'd hoped that it could be like this, but I hadn't really expected it.

"So, Lupo," Bernard began, his voice cutting through my trance and bringing my attention back to the table. "Did you and Connie pick a date yet for your funeral?"

"No, but keep that up and I can tell you when yours is gonna be," Lupo replied.

"No date?" Sean asked. "Jeez, with Alicia, I swear she had the date and the place picked out before I even finished asking the question."

"Well, I think I caught her by surprise," Lupo admitted. "We were sort of at a crime scene."

"A crime scene?" Mike asked incredulously. "Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, don't you?"

"If she said yes at a crime scene, then you never have to worry about her certainty on the matter," I told him, hoping to help his flailing self-confidence. "It's not like she got caught up in the moment."

The conversation continued, but my mind started wandering again.

He'd asked her at a crime scene. He had to mean at Steve's house this past Tuesday.

Well, at least someone would have a good memory to take from that day.

I knew that Steve and Cathy were working hard to mend their relationship, but it was going to take time.

And actually, I was glad to see that they were _letting_ it take time rather than trying to rush back into things and then pretend like nothing had ever been wrong.

With the way they were going about it, I had a strong belief that they would succeed.

And then I'd have to get Steve to one of these poker games, too.

The topic bounced around from Lupo's engagement to speculation on why John had still not sealed the deal with Mary and then to Ross' complimentary recount of Logan's interrogation of Harker.

We played hand after hand as the tales got taller and the bullshit got deeper, but I had a lot of fun.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time everyone had left and I'd walked the ten blocks to meet Alex.

On the way home, she entertained me with a slightly-slurred retelling of the highlights of her evening. She wasn't quite as intoxicated as she'd been on the last poker night, but I did keep my arm around her to keep her from wandering near the street.

"So you had a good time, too?" she asked me when we climbed into the bed. She'd been talking nearly non-stop since I'd met up with her, which was another sure sign as to her level of inebriation.

"Yes, I did," I told her as I pulled her up against me.

We each let out a sigh of relaxation now that we were finally settled in the bed.

It had been a hell of a week.

"And my dad…was he okay? Or did he have a relapse and act like an ass?"

"He was okay," I answered. "Better than okay, actually."

"So you're broke," she replied knowingly.

"I am flat broke," I agreed with a grin. I tightened my grip on her and then ran my hand over her hair. "And I've never been happier."

**The End**


End file.
